Disclaimer: I own nothing

As the rain poured down on London, the sound of a pop echoed down one alley of the large and sprawling city. Ron Weasley apparated and stumbled down it, before sliding against a stonewall and lying down on the concrete. Ron was taking deep breaths and short, sobbing noises came out of his mouth. As the rain continued to fall, pounding his face and soaking his clothing, he attempted to brush away the tears from his eyes. How is this all happening to me? Ron wondered to himself. What the hell has happened to my life?

He raked his hand through his wet hair, and sniffed. "Well. Not going to get anything out of lying here in rubbish and the rain." Ron sighed. He slid up the wall, grabbed the bag he had tossed on the ground and began to slowly stagger towards the street. He looked back and forth up and down the street. Not that many cars were out this late at night.

What do I do now? Ron wondered. He looked up and down the street again. Down the road a ways, it looked like there was hotel of some sort. Ron decided that he could figure out a way of getting a room there and set off in the hotel's direction. As he walked in the still tumultuous downpour, Ron thought about the past day. It ate at him, that his friends had… deserted him? After all they had been through? It made him… hurt, but also made him feel an anger and rage that he had not quite experienced in his 18 years. Those who mattered most in his life had simply shown him the door, saying it was better to run than stay. Bastards, Ron thought. Cowards.

With his thoughts filled with rage, Ron quickly arrived outside the hotel. There was a man at the reception desk that looked like he was enjoying his job about as much as Ron enjoyed Potions.

Ron quietly entered the hotel, trying not to let the middle-aged man hear the door open. As soon as he was halfway through the door, he struck. Ron pulled out his wand. "Stupefy," he whispered. The weak curse flew towards the man and hit him, knocking him away from his work and onto the floor behind the desk. Ron looked around the room, made sure no one else was around, and jogged over to the desk. He quickly went behind it and snagged a key off a hook. It was on the main level and while nothing fancy, Ron wasn't picky. He turned away and headed down the hall. He quickly found the room, opened it and fell onto the bed. Sleep quickly claimed him…but his dreams were anything but pleasant.

Ron was back home, standing outside a large, oddly built house. It was summer at the Burrow and, as Ron looked through the window, everyone was sitting down to dinner. Harry, Hermione, Ginny, are talking together at the table while George and Bill are laughing as they walk into the dining room. Charlie is helping Mrs. Weasley and Percy is… well being Percy. Suddenly, Mr. Weasley walked into the room. Ron, who had been smiling at the happy scene, felt a chill go through the air. The sun that had been shining down on him became clouded by darkness. There was a chill and a cold breeze that swept through the grasses and slammed into Ron. Disoriented for a moment, when he looked back in he saw the family crowded around Mr. Weasley. 'Oh God,' Ron thought. 'He's telling them about me.'

To reinforce his dark thoughts, Mr. Weasley suddenly looked up and with dark, cold eyes, glared at Ron. His hand rose, pointing straight at Ron. His mother began to wail his name and began to destroy the food with the cutlery and seemed to be getting ready to wreck the whole table. Harry was holding Hermione and Ginny, who were both weeping, and he was looking at Ron with a smug look on his face. With a wink and a smirk, he said "I always knew. Took you long enough to show your true colours."

Percy was still sitting at the table, looking at Ron with a blank expression on his face and clapping slowly, emphasizing each hit. His other brothers were slowly walking towards him, cursing his name. His mother let out a blood-curdling scream and, firing a giant curse at the clock, blew the hand that bore his name to pieces. The brothers were at the window. Ron was trying to hold it down, to keep them away from him. He was pleading with them, trying to say it wasn't his fault. But no one would listen, the sound of his mother screaming and his brothers cursing him rang in his ears. Fred was almost through the window, his hand bloodied but his face showing no pain. "No! no! It wasn't my fault. It wasn't my fault," Ron shouted. But they continued to ignore him. The brothers finally got outside the house, and were walking towards him. Ron sank to his knees, and sobbed. "Please don't hit me. Please!" The three looked at each other and smiled, then they began to-

Ron awoke violently to pounding all around him. "Huh?" he asked himself. The noise came again. "Oh shit." It was his hotel room door. Ron groaned as he sat up and moved slowly to the door. He peered through the peephole to see the man he had hit with his curse hours ago. The problem was he had friends. Two men with black vests and funny looking hats to be exact.

"Open up!" the receptionist shouted.

"Shit!" Ron murmured, pulling away from the door. Could the man see in through the same hole as Ron could see them? Ron didn't know and he was not sticking around long enough to ask. He ran back to the bed and grabbed his bag. Time to go. He got up and was about to apparate when he realized that he was screwed. The previous night he had simply apparated randomly in London, not really caring where his decision took him. Now… he had no place to apparate in the muggle world. With that exit impossible, he whipped out his wand and turned to the window of his room.

"Reducto!" he said. The curse spat from his wand and slammed into the window, destroying it. Ron waited till the dust had cleared and rushed out of the hole he had made. Out on the street at dusk, he took off down the road, going wherever his feet would take him.

Ten or so minutes later, Ron stopped, gasping for breath and receiving many weird looks from the few people on the street at the still early hour. Damn, I am in horrible shape. He had not exactly done that much strenuous activity since the fight at Hogwarts, but he did not think he had gotten as lazy as he was now. Still breathing heavily, he stared around at his new surroundings. He was standing in the middle of a square. "Leicester Square," Ron read off a nearby sign. "Not bad."

He wandered through it for a bit, till he came upon a bench. He paused, looked around to see if anyone was watching, no one was. He lay down and closed his eyes. Waste not…

Unfortunately, it seemed like he had just closed his eyes before Ron was being shook awake.

"Oi! Kid! Get the fuck off the bench and get the hell out of here."

Ron saw, through the glare of the sun, a woman standing over him. She wore the same weird clothing that those two men with the receptionist did, except she also wore a bright green luminescent jacket. The word "Police" was on the front of this jacket. "Huh?" was all Ron could respond with.

This seemed to make the woman even angrier. "I said," she said, while grabbing him by the arm and pulling him up to a sitting position, "wake up.

"Shite! All right. I'm going. Damn. Can't let a homeless kid get some shut eye," Ron said.

This seemed make the policewoman sputters. She began to dig into her pockets. Ron thought she was reaching for some sort of weapon. He thought about running, but knew he was in no state too. 'I give up' was on the tip of his tongue.

Instead of a weapon, she tossed a few pieces of parchment at him. "There!" she said. "Go get yourself some coffee and a scone and get to a shelter or back home."

"Can't go home." Ron said, as he picked up the… pound? Muggle money! Ron finally had some. As if hearing his thoughts, his stomach growled loudly.

The woman standing over him groaned. "Look," she lowered her voice and leaned towards Ron. Over on Endell Street number. 83, I think, there's this place called St. Mungo's-"

"What!!" Ron exclaimed, his mouth finally working.

The woman pretended to not hear him. "St. Mungo's is a homeless shelter. They will help you out, give you food, help you find a job, all that good stuff. I've given you enough quid to make it through the day. It's your choice if you go there or not. If not, they sometime do soup runs over at Waterloo Square, round 9 o'clock." With that, she stood and motioned for him to get going.

Ron was still confused about what the woman had meant. He understood what a homeless shelter was, but… ahh. Suddenly the light popped on. She was trying to help him. She felt... pity? Most of the time Ron would not have accepted charity from anyone, no matter if it were water in a barren desert. However, right now… he was willing to make an exception. His stomach churned again and begged for relief. In full agreement, Ron stood up and walked towards the nearest source of food, a restaurant called 'Burger King'. Ron entered the building and was immediately hit with strange smells he was unfamiliar with. He saw men and women, even kids, eating odd looking sandwiches. If all these muggles are eating them, it must be edible.

Ron ordered something called chicken nuggets and juice and sat down at a booth at the back of the establishment. He ravenously began to eat. Before he knew it, the 6 pieces that had been in the packaging were in his stomach. How do muggles survive on such small servings? Ron wondered. He wanted more and they hadn't cost much… No, he told himself. Need to get moving again and head for this homeless shelter place. With that, Ron left his trash and juice on the table and left the building. He began his search for the other St. Mungo's.

Unfortunately, as easy as it had been for the female constable to tell him the address, it took Ron most of the afternoon to navigate London's confusing roads and side streets. Ron was sweating under the hot summer sun as he finally stood outside the hostels doors. Taking a deep breath, he walked in.

Two weeks later, Ron Weasley was a semi-changed man. He had found a place to lay his head, albeit a small bed, and received daily meals. He had also been able to get several books from those running the hostel. As much as Ron hated studying and general education, he knew that he needed to understand the place he now resided if he hoped to survive. He slowly read through a book about London, describing its history, important landmarks and other general information. He also was happy to read through a book about muggle sports, while nowhere close to being the level of quidditch, was better than nothing. Ron also spent his time wandering the city, getting to know it. One of those days, sitting in a tube station, Ron's eyes fell upon what looked like a newspaper. However, there was something wrong with it. Or right with it! The pictures were moving! Ron reached under the chairs that it was under and unfolded it. For the first time in weeks, he finally had some idea of what was going on in the wizarding world. "Minister signs new Goblin Treaty… Hogwarts new Headmistress announces positions filled… Quidditch World Cup in Denmark still on… Damn I'd wanted to got that!" Ron's exclamation, along with a slew of follow on curses, made several men and women near him glare. He had a fleeting thought of still being able to go, before realizing that with no money at all, muggle or galleon, he was stuck in this rut of a life. "I need to get to my money at Gringotts." Ron muttered as he boarded the train. As he sat down he realized that that was it. If he could break into Diagon Alley, Ron could get the reward money for his part in fighting Voldemort and then go.. well wherever. Herm- SHE had done that back in the day. The thousand galleons, plus some other money he had put away, would get him nearly 6 thousand pounds. With that, Ron could do well, hell he could do better than he ever thought he would. With that, Ron began his planning to break back into the Magical World.

A/N: Sorry for taking so long. Life gets in the way of fun unfortunately. I was going to have this go longer, but felt ending it here made more sense instead of ending the chapter later on.