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+ Infest: A Harry Potter Song Fic by Canarde +
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+ Chapter Five: Between Angels and Insects +
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"It's too bad this world is based on greed.
Step back and see, and stop thinking about yourself;
Start thinking about:
There's no money, there's no possession,
Only obsession; I don't need that shit.
Take my money, take my possession,
Take my obsession; I don't need that shit.
'Cause everything is nothing,
And emptiness is in everything.
This reality is just a fucked-up dream.
With the flesh and blood
That you call your soul,
Flip it inside out, it's a big, black hole.
Take your money, burn it up like an asteroid.
Possessions, they are never going to fill the void;
Take it away and learn the best lesson:
The heart, the soul, the life, the passion.
Present yourself, press your clothes,
Comb your hair and clock in.
You just can't win, you just can't win;
The things you own own you."
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"Why are you doing this?"
Draco propped himself up on one elbow, a winningly bemused smile pinned carefully into place. "What am I doing, love?"
Ron tugged his faded robes back over his shoulders and sighed, saying, "This," and gesturing grandly over the two of them in the grass, the blanket below them, the shadows cast by a surprisingly calm Whomping Willow which hid them from the castle and prying eyes.
When Draco's puzzled expression did not melt into a knowledgeable smile, Ron said, "All of this. Why are you spending your free hours with a sworn enemy of over six years?"
"Well," said Draco slowly, "why not?"
Despite Draco's charming smile, Ron continued to press his inquiry. "Is it to rebel against your father?"
And the charming smile disappeared, his eyes hardening as he frowned. He reassured the redhead that it was not his father, quickly pulling a humorous face, adding, "If I wanted to rebel against Lucius, I'd bring you home to supper."
There was a long pause, in which Draco watched Ron think. The redhead had drawn his long legs up close to himself and was leaning on his knees, his hands pressing on his cheeks in a vain effort to remain upright. His usually cheerfully grey eyes were almost tormented with thought.
Finally, Draco said, "Look, Ron, if you want to know why I keep coming back in spite of your persistence that the Weasley and Malfoy names shouldn't mix, I'll give you a reason." He raised his eyebrows innocently while adding, "It'll all be bullshit, but it'll be a reason ... "
He inched closer to Ron, his hand trailing over the shoulder of the redhead's robes before sliding inside the collar. Ron pulled closer instinctively, but when Draco kissed his neck, he stiffened. Draco sighed and sat back, leaning on his hands stretched out behind him.
"It's because of your money," he said, his eyes shining with mirth. "One of these days I'll be off with all of your riches, and you won't have heard a peep from me ... I'll have disappeared before you know I've gone."
Ron tugged at his robe, buttoning the top few buttons which Draco had undone, and turned a cold shoulder on the blond. His eyes were blazing.
"Laugh all you want, Malfoy, but one of these days you might wake up and realize that you're nothing without your money."
After a slight pause, Draco managed a wounded smile and said softly, "You called me Malfoy, Ron."
"So," Ron grunted, searching the wrinkled folds of the blanket for his wand.
"You haven't called me Malfoy since -- "
"Since this mess began, eh?" the redhead supplied when the blond faltered. Draco nodded innocently. "Because it is a mess, really. All of this. A mistake."
"Mistake?" Draco said, his voice withering under the hard glare of his freckled companion. Ron jerked himself to his feet, his wand held at an awkward angle in his hand, and stepped back.
"You heard me, Mal- -- " But the look in Draco's eyes was too much, and Ron hesitated, mumbling, "Draco." He sighed and continued, "A mistake. I never should have -- " Again, he stopped himself, winced, and avoided looking at Draco. "I never should have let you buy me."
"Buy you," Draco laughed in disbelief, though his tone lacked humor. "In what way did I buy you?"
"The new wand," Ron said, ticking his list off on his long fingers, "the textbooks at the start of the year, the ice cream in Hogsmeade, the Butterbeers and Drooble's Best and Every Flavor Beans -- Not to mention the broomstick and Quidditch supplies ... "
Draco, too, had gotten to his feet, clutching his hands as though he was holding himself back from physically keeping Ron from leaving.
"I didn't buy you -- "
"You lured me with the possibility of being wealthy, Draco. Intentionally or not, I don't really care, and it doesn't really matter."
Draco looked presently as though he was close to crying, and Ron again sighed, crossing the distance between them and pulling him into his arms.
"I-I didn't mean ... "
"I know," said Ron, "neither did your father, I think."
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They would be leaving Hogwarts tomorrow, and Ron had refused the invitation to stay at the Malfoy Manor at all during the holidays.
"But," he said, when Draco pouted convincingly, "you are welcome to visit me at the Burrow. My mum would love you -- you pick up your dirty knickers on a regular basis."
At this, Draco laughed, but couldn't help wondering aloud, "What's the difference between the Manor and the Burrow?"
Ron grinned, his freckled face creasing merrily.
"Well," he pointed out, "at the Manor, I'll be just another Weasley, but at the Burrow, you would be, too."
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Thank you, Hopper. Despite your grumpiness, you are a Godsend.
And thank you, Heidi, whose paranoia of losing friends is endearing and strangely flattering, and Heidi, who made me realize how wonderful my own friends are.
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All characters used in this piece of fiction are property of J.K. Rowling and copyright Warner Brothers.
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Song lyrics are property of Papa Roach and copyright Viva La Cucaracha Music.
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Chapter Six coming soon to a fan fiction archive near you.