Runaway Fox
Chapter One: The Prodigal Son and Friend
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Author's Note: I still have another story that I am working on, but I got this idea for this story. And I will get back to it. I'm on break. I got to thinking about how Ron feels about things especially in the fourth book. I can really relate to him. So, I decided to write about how things turn out for him. I wanted him to have a great future, but with some hardships. Ron is insanely wealthy, but extremely modest about it. Let's just say he's so modest that his family and friends back home don't know it. And yes, for all you Ron and Hermione supporters, this is for you.
* * * * * *
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" shouted Ron as he looked at her slumped form leaning against his chest. He looked at the person who he thought was one of his best friends.
"Shut up!!! You think you're so much better than me!" he shouted back to Ron in a shaking voice.
"Look. Listen to me, man. Please put down the gun," pleaded Ron. "Let's get her some help. You don't want to do this. You don't want to hurt me."
BANG!
Beep! Beep! Beep! Ron was already awake from his dream. His hand reached up and smacked the alarm to turn it off instead of the snooze. He stood up and looked outside his penthouse apartment in New York City. He was now twenty-three years old. His body was muscular from playing Quidditch for the New York City Astrolights for a few years. He had firm six-pack abs. His body was lean because he was built with compact muscles. He placed his left hand against one side of his stomach and felt the scar there. He only slept in pajama bottoms and wore only a tank top when necessary. His feet touched the bare, cold floor of his huge master bedroom. A knock came from the door, he said, "Come in, Jonathon."
"Good morning, Mr. Weasley. How are you today?" asked Ron's butler.
"Fine," answered Ron as he donned his bathrobe. It was made from the finest silk. Everything that Ronald Weasley owned was made from the finest materials. Anyone would have a hard time believing that Ron was ever poor to begin with. He had everything that he wanted as a kid. He had money, power, and security. He had over three hundred employees underneath him. He had a career and a life style that most people could only dream about. In his homes in San Francisco and the Caribbean, he had house elves. He was one of the richest and wealthiest men in either the Muggle or Magic world. However, Ron was also notoriously reclusive and private; he never granted any interviews with anyone, not even when he was the Seeker for the Astrolights.
When he came from his shower and was fully dressed, his breakfast was already waiting for him. "There is a meeting scheduled for nine this morning, Sir. Later there is lunch with some other companies…" Jonathon read off a long list of things from a PDA.
This was how Ron did business, and he was very well verse in Muggle things almost as well verse as Hermione and Harry. His company was one of the rare companies in the world where nearly half the employees didn't know that they were working for a wizard. It was called a hybrid company where Muggles and Magics worked together. He was the sole owner and founder of Warp Speed Technologies Limited. The company specialized in broomstick design and also for the Muggle world microchips. At least that's what the Muggles who worked for him thought. Ron with broomsticks was like Olivander's with wands.
"There will also be business in London next week, Sir," said Jonathon.
"What?" asked Ron, nearly choking on his coffee.
"London, Sir," said Jonathon. He was also British and that's why Ron liked him when he first hired him.
"Um…I forgot. I really should just send Simon along," said Ron thoughtfully. He hadn't set foot in the entire United Kingdom, including Ireland in the past five years. Simon Scott was Ron's friend and right hand man in the company. He was extremely loyal.
"It was Mr. Scott's idea that you go," said Jonathon. The man has the memory of an Elephant, thought Ron as he nodded.
Going back to London meant that he had a chance of running into people who knew him. Maybe, if he kept to the Muggle parts of London, he would be fine. Maybe, he wouldn't run into members of his family or his best friends. Harry was playing Quidditch for the England team, and Hermione was an Auror for the Ministry of Magic trying to maintain the peace since Harry defeated Voldemort on their sixth year. They knew him when he was childish, petty, and afraid of people knowing he was poor, and they were probably still wondering what became of him. He stopped writing home four years ago and even then he was using the Muggle post and having Hermione forward the letters to his parents. Do you seriously think you can run away forever? Of course, there's on guarantee that you'll run into any of them. Or maybe, if you're lucky they've forgotten about you, said the little voice in his head that sounded just like him.
Ron didn't look like the head of one of the world's top companies. He looked really young. Too young. The people he met with still asked his age. He was tall at 6'3" and well built. When he walked down the streets, he could turn female heads without trying, not that he ever noticed. Furthermore, his skill and strength in magic was so strong that sometimes he could do some spells without a wand. When he was in meetings he wore Muggle suits or formal robes, but outside he liked to dress in Muggle clothes. He also wore an ear cuff on his left ear ridge and wore sunglasses all time when he was outside and when he wasn't in meetings. In other words, he was as cool in his looks as his eldest brother, Bill. Not that anyone would ever mistake him for any of brothers these days.
The last time anyone from Ron's past saw him was the Quidditch World Cup in Paris three years ago. The Astrolights won the entire national league and represented the United States for the world games. The United States won that year because Ron had caught the Golden Snitch just in the nick of time when the bludger hit him knocking him off his broom. They won, beating Russia, 300 to 150. His family, Harry, and Hermione were invited to the game by the U.S. press agent because he said that the team need all the moral support from others as possible because they were playing somewhere other than the United States. What Ron didn't know was that his nieces and nephews idolized him for being a fantastic athlete. Ron quit playing professionally as soon as his contract was up three months after that. There was something that made him quit and it had to something to do with his dream.
~*~
"How does this look, Harry?" Ginny Potter asked her husband of two years. She was hanging a picture on the wall and wanted to know if it was straight.
"It looks fine," answered Harry without looking.
"You're not even looking," said Ginny exasperatedly. Harry wasn't looking. He was on the floor crawling after their daughter, Jessica.
"What? Oh, that looks crooked. Come back here, Jess," said Harry as he crawled off after her. An owl came to the window, so Ginny used a charm spell to keep the picture on the wall until she came back. She untied the note from the leg of the owl, and it fluttered away.
"It's from Hermione. She says that hello. And she wanted to apologize for not making our dinner party last week. She says that she does have the weekend off and may drop by to see the baby," said Ginny happily.
Hermione was Jessica's godmother. Harry wanted Ron to be the godfather of his first child, but he wasn't anywhere to be found. Hedwig couldn't deliver to him either that or he wasn't answering. She just kept coming back with unread letters. Ginny wanted Ron to be there for their wedding, but he didn't show up. She would have wanted him to crash the wedding and come anyway without an invitation. All he did was send a wedding present that had five hundred galleons attached to it and a small note that said he couldn't make the wedding. They found out later that he was playing for the New York Astrolights in the United States.
"Tell her to come by whenever she wants," said Harry walking up to her with the baby in his arms. Ginny wrote an answer to Hermione and attach the note to Hedwig off. Harry looked at the picture on the wall and straightened it out for Ginny.
~*~
Ron took his private jet to London's Heathrow Airport. He was dressed in a black jeans with a black long sleeved, V necked shirt. He had his sunglasses and ear cuff on. He had his leather coat draped on his arm and immediately put it on when he outside the plane. Ron had forgotten how cold it got in England. He was off to warmer places whenever it started snowing in New York, and in San Francisco it didn't really snow.
A car was waiting for him to take him to the hotel he was staying at for the visit to London. Ron couldn't believe that he had to stay there for the next two weeks. He told himself it wouldn't be so bad if he just kept out of Diagon Alley and away from other magics. Who would be the wiser? How could anyone know he was in London. The hotel was already waiting for him and he was brought right up to his room.
"Are you ready for the meeting, Ron?" asked Simon.
"Yeah, almost. I just want to take a walk for a little bit," said Ron with a sigh.
"Hey, you don't have to ask me, Ron. You're my boss," said Simon with a smile. Ron nodded and took a walk outside. He looked around him. He hardly ever went into Muggle London when he was a child. In the United States, there was a good understanding between some of the Muggles and Magics. Some of the universities there had hybrid programs and took students of both groups and taught them together. Ron had a degree in Business and Economics with a minor in Philosophy. He had no idea that he could catch on to Muggle studies so easily. So much more easily than Magic. He regretted slightly that he hadn't taken Muggle Studies at Hogwarts as Hermione told him he should do. Hermione was always tell him what he should do. He missed her the most. With her, all the answers were there. Of course, she couldn't answer the questions of he had in his head, but it was a comforting thought. Perhaps going home would be fine. Maybe, he could face his parents. His mother would take him back no matter what he did. His father would accept him because they missed him. They all missed him. He had his doubts that they would accept him. Not if they found out what happened.
Ron wondered how his brothers and sister were doing. He knew that Bill had married Fleur and still worked for Gringotts in Egypt. Charlie was still single, and Ron didn't know much more, but he knew that he had written a book about the study of dragons. It was best seller for a couple of weeks. Percy and Penelope were married and both working for the Ministry. Fred and George were also married and had kids. Their joke business was also successful, but it didn't have the international reach that Ron's company had. And Ginny was happy being like their mother, a housewife with her baby and being married to Harry. In short, Ron was the most successful out of the Weasley children money wise.
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were in constant worry because they didn't know what Ron was up to. Little did they know, if they opened up a Muggle newspaper and looked up stocks for Warp Speed, then they would know how well he was doing. Yes, he had lots of money and power. Not that Ron didn't believe in marriage, more important, he questioned the existence of love. Ron had no idea what that was anymore. He took Philosophy as his minor with hopes of finding out what love meant again, but found nothing.
Not since, they had died. Nothing made sense of the whole thing. In a word, Ron was heartbroken.
~*~
Hermione promised her mother that she would join some of her mother's friends and daughters for some kind of luncheon in London. Her hair wasn't really bushy any more these day. It land limp on her shoulders and refused to cooperate with a Muggle curling iron. She really didn't want to go. She had to do her work at the Ministry. She was one of the top Aurors there. The Aurors were the top of the Ministry. They had taken over Arkzaban because the Dementors were taken off.
The Aurors were made up of Muggle born and half blood for the purpose of the fact that some of the new technology that came up it was necessary. The Dark Lord still had followers and the job of the Aurors was to capture them and bring them to trial. There was metal alloy that was founded to stop pure blood wizards and poison their blood streams. The only people who practiced magic and were immune to the effects were Muggle born and half bloods. Some people who had grandparents who were Muggles were also protected, people like Harry. The Death Eaters were made up of all pure bloods. So, this was advantageous for the Aurors.
Also, since the Aurors knew how to use Muggle technology, they used that to their advantage. Instead of using owls to send classified information, they used the Muggle post and sent the stuff on mini computer discs and kept them encrypted. The Death Eaters didn't know how to use such advance Muggle technology. It was things like these that kept the Aurors on top of the Death Eaters.
It wasn't that Hermione enjoyed being at the top of her unit. She always liked being on top, but there had to be more to life. Her last serious relationship ended badly and that was with Viktor Krum. He wanted her to quit being an Auror and get married, but Hermione wasn't ready to do that. Her job mattered more to her than he did. At least, that's what he said. Hermione knew something else. She didn't know if she could be with Viktor forever. Not like that. Not if he wasn't going to accept her for what she was. He was rather possessive. She couldn't stand it.
These were the thoughts that clouded her head as she walked along the street. The sound of the most obnoxious voices of two girls suddenly stop. She turned her head to see two female American tourists turning their head to look at something or someone across the street. The waitress who was serving them was also distracted and was pouring water down the lap of one of the girls. They were so distracted that they didn't care about the mess. She wondered what the captured their attention from across the street. She turned her head to someone across the street. He was over six feet tall, his hair was flaming red, he was built with good solid muscle, and dressed to kill complete with sunglasses and an ear cuff. He looked like a Muggle fashion model. Something out of GQ. No wondered the girls were looking at him. Hermione stared for a moment and thought that there was some familiar about him. Suddenly it came to her, stopping her cold with realization.
"Ron?" she whispered.
AN: Now there's my cliffhanger. What do you think? I don't think anyone's ever made Ron look this successful. I hope it's original. So, anyone wondering how Ron left home? And what's up with the mysterious opening? Please review. ^_^