I know it's not an original idea, but this is my take on Ron leaving the others during "Deathly Hallows".

Of course, none of it is mine.

The rating is for mild language, just to be safe.

Your reviews are very welcome.

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'RON!! COME BACK!! PLEASE RON, COME BACK!!'

'DON'T GO RON!! PLEASE, DON'T GO!!'

'RON!! DON'T LEAVE ME. PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME.'

The rain finally extinguished her voice as Ron pushed and slipped his way through the wood.

'Ron, oh Ron. Please. I love you.'

'Damn her. Damn her to hell. And him. Especially him. They've got what they wanted. She can have him; it's what she's always wanted. Golden Balls and Little Miss Perfect. Merlin! I've been so stupid. I thought it was me, I really thought it was me. How could it be? What am I compared to the Chosen One?

I'm just Ron, good ol' Ron. Ron the prat, Ron the mate, Ron the second best.

I'm not. I'm as good as him. Who got them across the chessboard? His bloody scar couldn't help him then, could it? She probably could have managed, as long as she had a week in the bloody library first. But I did it, there and then.

I was in the chamber with him. I was there. But no, he gets all the credit. Forget stupid Ron clearing the stupid tunnel so they could get out. Super-bloody-hero Potter saves the day again.

And I was there in the Ministry. I've still got the scars to prove it. Of course, I haven't got THE scar. Oh no, only bloody Potter's got the one that counts. And that's what she wants, isn't it? Draped over his arm with that bloody scar in every picture.

"Oh Ron, yes, we remember him, don't we darling? He was quite amusing to have around, but we've grown up now. We hunted Horcruxes, Ron hunted dinner, ho ho ho. Well, let's be honest, Ron was good for a laugh but no good in a crisis."

Ron's no bloody good for anything is he? Ron can't invent things like Fred and George. Ron can't be a seeker like Charlie. Ron can't break codes like Bill. Ron can't even be a bloody traitor like Percy. And I'm not a daughter. They stopped after Ginny, didn't they? They had to keep going until they got a girl. I'm not even the right bloody sex for my parents.'

He tripped over a tree root in the darkness and sprawled in the mud.

'I CAN'T EVEN WALK THROUGH A BLOODY FOREST.'

Ron pulled his wand from his pocket, and twisted. 'ANYWHERE BUT BLOODY HERE!!'

-o0o-

He apparated in to the middle of a run down industrial estate. Where, he didn't know and didn't care.

'Oh look lads, looks like we've got ourselves an escapee.'

Ron turned. Five men stood around a fire made of old pallets. Each had a wand in their hand. The tallest moved towards him.

'Don't try running, lanky. We got you covered, ain't we? Now, why ain't you in school wiv all the uvver good little boys an' girls? Eh?'

'I left last year.'

'Oh, di'ja now? So why ain't you at 'ome?'

'Had a row with my girlfriend, needed some air.'

''Oo's this girlfriend then, an' oo are you?'

'Stan Shunpike.'

The man moved towards him, wand still raised.

'I know that name. Shunpike? 'Oo's your dad?'

'Bill Shunpike. Works for the Ministry. And I tell you "sumfink", you mess with me and he'll hex your carcass across every bloody caldron in Knockturn Alley.'

The man stopped. Like most bullies, he wasn't as brave as he pretended to be. Most of the kids they'd tracked down had been scared. It had been easy money, picking up kids on the run from Hogwarts, or better still Mudbloods trying to get away. There were bigger rewards for mudbloods.

This one wasn't scared, or wasn't showing it. Maybe they had made a mistake. If his dad was still at the Ministry he was no traitor. He'd have friends, maybe important friends. All the snatchers knew they were barely tolerated by those now in charge. They were seen as a necessary evil, but once their job was done they would be cast aside. They were little better than vermin, working on the fringes. Wizards who were not good enough, or not pure enough, to be accepted in to the new order.

Whilst this was going on, the others had moved to surround Ron. Two seized his arms; a rat faced man took Ron's wand from his hand and faced up his comrade.

'Wot choo arguin' for, eh? Let's jus' take 'im in an' see. I don' know no Shunpike in the Ministry.'

'You don' know nuffink. Wot if 'is dad is a bigwig? You wanna be crucio'd across the room, do ya? We gotta fink.'

'You couldn't fink if your caldron was on fire. Jus' take 'im in stupid.'

'Don' you talk ter me like that'

'Yeah, or wha'?'

The two began a rather pointless pushing and shoving match, whilst trading insults which mainly consisted of two or less syllables. The rest thought this highly amusing, and began egging on their friends. It was so funny that one of them let go of Ron's arm.

Ron seized his chance without thinking. If he had have done, he wouldn't have moved. This was action born of panic. He swung his elbow back hard, catching the man right in his solar plexus. It was a lucky shot, he doubled over, winded. Ron seized the man's wand, threw curses at random, snatched another wand and span.

'Stoatshead Hill' It was the first thing that came in to his mind.