AN: This idea has been running around my head for quite a while. Ron is often demonised for many things in Harry potter fan-fiction. Some of these things i think are fair criticisms, others, however, are just ridiculous. Being jealous of a friend with a ton of money, when you've been poor your whole life? Understandable. Being a little tactless and rude? Less so. Many are not exactly perfect people at eleven. Flaws are human.

Chapter 1. Lost.

Ron Weasley was lost. Utterly, thoroughly, without a doubt, lost. Being from a wizarding family, he didn't often see many of the muggle parts of town. It was mainly his primary school, and the supermarket. Everything else was a mystery. The Weasleys, although purebloods, were not well off, so the children were sent to muggle primary school, instead of one of the magical establishments. This meant Ron was fairly familiar with some of the more up to date muggle subjects, but unfortunately, geography was not one of them. Not that knowng how many rivers there were in Africa would have helped him out much here. Well, while he was lost, he thought to himself, why not reflect on how awful the rest of his life was? Having five older brothers was certainty a disadvantage, as far as he was concerned. Having a younger sister was even worse. He was a little put out, that she always seemed to get new things, and he was always left with hand-me-downs. He understood that she couldn't exactly walk around in boys clothing all day, but it would be nice to get a few new things for himself, he though selfishly. As he kicked a stone down the unfamiliar path he wondered how he'd gotten into this mess.

He'd been having a bad day as it was, and it seemed it was going to get worse, he thought bitterly. Why was it always him anyway, he never seemed to get any let up. Whenever he did anything well in school, why did the teachers have to compare him to his brothers? At every opportunity, it seemed people where determined to have a go at him, be it for his clothes, his hair, the fact he was enjoying lessons, the fact he wasn't enjoying lessons, what he ate for lunch, any perceived failing, however small, was leapt on, like hungry lions stalking a gazelle.

Trapped in his bad mood, he'd managed to walk to a side of town he'd never been before. The houses looked different, older, with thinner streets. Never before had he seen the shops that graced the street, and he was getting worried. It was fairly late in winter, and the sun was beginning to set over the houses, the last vestiges of sunlight trickling through the gaps in the houses like thick treacle. Standing in a rather shabby looking square, Ron pondered where it had all gone wrong. Five small shops, selling a variety of things Ron had no desire to buy, and no desire to go in, looked at him offering no help whatsoever. He could see some of the workers in the shops, through grubby windows, looking at him strangely. One, a very worn-out man had seen him through the window of his equally worn-out looking shop, and came out to ask him what on earth an eight year old was doing out there all alone, and offered to let Ron use the phone to call his parents one he'd explained the situation.

As he cautiously accepted the offer, Ron walked into the shop, Toms Tailoring, and was fascinated by the items on display. Clothes of all shapes and sizes, sample materials on racks, beautiful dresses, all manner of clothing proudly displayed. As Ron was marvelling at the expensive looking suits, a phone was produced, and he duly dialled home, and explained what had happened. His Dad, who didn't really understand how phones worked, had told him he'd be there in an hour to pick him up, as he had to finish all the paper work he'd been lumped with. Great, Ron thought, an hour waiting in a shop with a man I've never met before.

"So, I don't think I ever asked your name" asked the gentleman, now that he'd sat back behind the desk, cup of coffee in hand. He was rather tall, Ron noticed, and slightly dishevelled, with greying hair, and a wrinkled face, but kind eyes. The clothes he wore however looked bright and colourful, a navy suit, orange shirt and bright yellow leather shoes, all in all a rather mad look completed by the measuring tape he had slung around his neck.

"Ron, Ron Weasley" the boy divulged. The man, Tom, Ron had ascertained, chuckled at this, and Ron asked angrily what was so funny about his name.

"It's nothing, just a silly joke that popped into my head, 007, that sort of thing" Tom explained, "Anyway" he continued " How did you manage to get lost on this side of town, it must be the complete opposite direction to your home?"

"Bad day at school." Ron mumbled. He really didn't want to talk about it.

"What could've possibly been so bad that you got this lost?"

"The other kids were taking the mickey out of the fact I was in the library, not the first time it's happened, and it just seems to get worse the older I get. Its not even just that" he said, exasperated "Everything I do seems to get picked apart"

Tom looked up at this disturbed " Why would they bully you about that? It seems so... So trivial"

"Well" Ron said, in a weary tone "I enjoy learning about languages, stuff like that, and they always go on about how I'm a swot. I'm thinking of just stopping. If I stop working, like stop sticking out, maybe no one will bother me."

"No!" Tom shouted, shocking Ron out of his melancholy "Never stop caring about your education Ron! It is one of the most important things you can do with your life."

"It doesn't even matter anyway" Ron said in a sad voice, "Even if I could stop caring what the others thought of me, it wouldn't make a difference. Anything I do my brothers have already done, usually better than me, I mean, nothing I do matters, everyone has already done it before."

"So?" Tom questioned "It doesn't matter what others have done, all that should matter is what you want to do, sod everyone else" setting down his coffee, he continued "What interests you, what you want to do is all that should ever truly matter. What are you interested in Ron?"

Ron thought for a moment. What did interest him? He'd never really thought about it before. Chess, he supposed, he definitely enjoyed chess. And languages, he liked learning different languages, especially when he could pull one over his brothers by messing with them about what some words meant. Fixing things, he was quite good at that, spending hours in the shed poring over muggle technology with his dad, looking at manuals on toasters and other random bits and pieces that his dad brought home. He also liked clothing, a passion grown from having to constantly repair his hand me down clothes.

"Chess" Ron said " I like chess. I'm good at that"

"I've got a board in the back, if you'd like to play?"

Tom had quickly gone to the back room and grabbed the board. Having set up all the pieces, it was a ridiculously short game, Ron thrashing him thoroughly.

"Well, I'm certainly no match for you there" Tom chucked, putting the pieces away.

"Anything else interest the little chess prodigy? Other than destroying unsuspecting victims in such a ruthless way" He asked jokingly

"Well" Ron started apprehensively " I do like fashion. Like modifying my clothes and stuff." Scratching his quickly reddening ear, he continued "A lot of my clothes are hand me downs, so I've gotten quite good at fixing damaged things."

Tom nodded appreciatively, filing this knowledge away

"Well, if you like clothes, I can certainly show you what I do here in the shop" Tom motioned him to follow as he got up and walked through to the back door. As they entered the small back room, Ron saw bundles of different fabrics on a small desk, sewing machines, some clothing in all manner of states of completeness.

"I work with fabric, turning it into the clothing you see out there." Tom volunteered. "It takes rather a lot of time, which is why I haven't got much stock out front, plus, I mainly make items to order"

"It looks wonderful" said Ron, honestly.

"Well," Tom began quizzically "I have been looking for someone to help around the shop, to clean up, and help out with some of the more basic work. I know you're a bit young for a proper job, so it'd have to be a weekend type thing."

Ron was very excited at the prospect of a job. If he could get some money, however little the amount, he might be able to buy some things first hand. He'd never had anything that wasn't owned by anyone else before, except underwear. It was a rather contentious point for him, having to go to school in Bill's old trousers Fred's old shirt, and Charlie's old jumper. Even his shoes weren't new, having been shrunk to fit him. The prospect of buying something for himself was very enticing.

"I'll have to ask your father if its okay when he comes to pick you up however" Tom began

"I'm sure it'll be fine" Ron blurted enthusiastically.

At that moment, the door swung open, a little bell dinging in the front room.

"Ron?" said Arthur, who had just come in

"In here" declared Ron

The next few minutes where spent discussing how Ron had ended up there, how dangerous it could have been getting lost, what was his mother going to say, Arthur thanking Tom profusely, and whether it was okay if Ron could work on the weekends. Eventually, it was decided, as long as Ron kept up with his school work, he could work Saturdays and Sundays. Ron was ecstatic. He thanked his Dad, and waved goodbye to Tom, looking forward to the weekend much more than before the short encounter. All in all Ron thought, this day had been rather brilliant.

PCAN: All reviews welcome, critical ones especially. This is my first piece of fan fiction, so if there is anything major, please let me know...