Beware: I will replace the R and L from the boy's speech with W because he can't talk properly.
I do not own or receive money out of this!
Monday morning... Great, just great, that means a lot of work in the Weasley family. The family was numerous, with 2 adults and 5 children, there were too many nouths to feed and they were always short of money. That's why, the youngest brother, Ron, was always receiving worn clothes and less food because he was little. Also, being the littlest one (beside his sister, who was just a baby), his chores were to dust in tight places and scrub the floor under the beds and in other places that only a small one can fit.
Knock knock. "Who can be at this hour in the morning?" Miss Weasly, the mother, thought with loud voice, almost screeming. She opened the dor and a female in blue clothes presented herself being from the child protection services, investigating a complain about a child doing too many chores for his age.
"Oh, really, and do you have the name of the child, because, as you know, I have 4 boys and a baby girl, so you need to give a name"
The woman threw a look in her papers and said the name: Ronald."May I speak with him alone, please Miss Weasley. We have to find out if the complain is real or just a joke. Also, I need you to sign a paper for administrating the child one single drop of Veritaserum, just to be sure that we are not missing anything."
Molly tought for a second:" putting the boy to dust and clean under the beds wasn't so bad. He was 4, he needed to help around the house a little, the food isn't earned just because you stay in bed, right?"." Ok, I'll sign. RON! RONALD WEASLEY, GET DOWN FOR A SECOND, SOMEONE HERE WANTS TO SPEAK WITH YOU"
From upstairs came a small thin boy, no more than 3 from the sign of him, covered in dust and dressed with worn and too big clothes.
"Yes mom? Have I bweak something again?"
"No, not this time. This lady here wants to speak with you about something. Now, go in the dining room, I will come later to check on you."
In the dining room "Hello Ronald, my name is Arabella Figg from the child protection services. I have some pumpkin juice for you here. Can I ask you some questions?"
"Yes. But I am not awowed juice. Not enough money." said the boy in a small voice staring at the glass before him.
"It's ok, this is a gift from me for being a brave boy and wanting to talk to me. Just a sip and tell me if you like it. If not, it is not necessary to drink it all."
"Ok, I suppose a sip won't huwt anyone."
"So, Ronald. I heard that you're mom is in charge and is giving you a lot of chores. Mind telling me what they are?"
"Dust awound the house. Awso undew the beds and behind the wawdwobe. Wash the fwoows, fowd cwothes and cwean aftew what I bwoke down because I was bad."
"Oh God, that's a lot of work for a young boy. How old you said you are? 3?"
"no...4 and a hawf...awmost..."
"you are such a big boy in age! How could you be so small?"
"the food must be eawned...no chowes, no food... Mom's saying... Awso no juice and sweets and no new cwothes fow the me because I is littwe..."
"Oh God. How much you said you would eat?"
"depends...2 slices of bwead and a pwate of stuff... Aw day... Mom says that is enough fow me, but sometimes I still hungwy, even if I dwank watew..."
"that is too little for a growing man like you. How about that greasy hair of yours? When was the last when you took a bath?"
"4 days ago..."
"then, you need a bath, you are also covered in dust and it is not healthy"
"no bath day today... Bath is once a week and we have 2 watew change. Mine is awmost diwty aw the time and cowd..."
"Ronald...oh boy... We must speak with your mom about it!"
"NOOO! No tawk to mom, pwease! She wouwd smack me fow being a bad boy and tawk and say stuff and I no want to be huwt, I don't wike huwt! No, pwease, no..."
The boy had big pleading eyes with unshed tears in them. He doesn't know why he said all of that stuff, but his mom indeed would be angry. He started to remember all the house rules, like "no talking back" or "not telling stuff to strangers" and "no telling what mommy does"...he ruined all of them. His mom was going to beat the life out of his little body.
"No, it is ok little boy, everything will sort out and you won't have to do so much work again."
"and...how wouwd I eawn my food, then?"
"you won't. You would be fed just because you are too young to do that kind of stuff and need to grow big and strong. Come, you will see."
"Molly, you can come in, I know you are behind the door and listening, that's not so nice, you know?"
"you say so? I heard everything that little brat said. You know? It is a big family, everyone has a place in it, we must all work together to keep the house clean."
"Molly...your oldest son is already working and travels most of the time. The second one is almost old enough to start working. What you are doing to the rest of them is abuse! And we all know that you started with Ron because the twins were too naughty and you would continue becausethey are too many. That's why I am deciding that Ron and Ginny would be placed in foster care untill they are adopted. Ron darling, pack you things, anything it is yours, we are leaving"
Ron was scared, but thrilled. He didn't like his family, they made fun of him and call him stupid, and make him work. Maybe, in his new family he would have less to clean, he doesn't like to clean that much, he gots bruised easily and beaten for breaking things. That must be enough: his toothbrush, his only 2 shorts and 2 t-shirts and his old and patched thin coat, his 2 pairs of old socks that also have holes in them and 2 pairs of underware. In total he has 2 sets of clothes and one he is already wearing. They all fit in a bag witouth too much trouble. It remains his only pair of shoes, way too big for him but too small for his older brother. He wears them with paper stuck in them to fit more properly.
In 2 minutes he was already in front of the door waving his mom goodby. Part of him was relived because he would not be in care of his mother, he wasn't THAT dumb, he was the differences between he and his brothers. He took Arabella's hand and walked next to her. Maybe things were getting better. He knew not to ask too many questions, it was a way of talking back, his mom said so. If his mom wasn't saying anything this time, this must be ok, it needs to be ok. He looked back at his house, only to find a closed door and a single light in the kitchen: his mom was cooking, but not for him this time. Maybe because he was going to live with other people, his brothers would eat more.
Soon, he was staying in front of a small house with a single floor. This must be it. Arabella rang the door and the light went on. This is it, new house, new rules, new places to clean.