Never Sweeter

A/N: Ayooo. I'm trying to get back into writing. So no, lovely readers, I have not abandoned you all, I've just been on a break.

A pretty damn long one as a matter of fact. But annnyways, I saw this on someone else's profile and thought, hey I can do this! Granted, theirs was on Hugo but I like my Rose better :3

Enjoy!

Mum says that I should write a diary. But who the hell writes a diary when they're forty-five? Obviously, my mother does and she's like sixty something! I love Hermione Jean, don't get me wrong, but sometimes her ideas are so bloody dumb.

Alas, I'm writing, a diary entry. I've decided to start off with ten things about myself that I don't think anyone knows about me, not even my husband. That's cutting it pretty short, it's hard to be married to someone for thirty plus years and not have them know everything there is to know.

So here it goes, I'm starting at the beginning, all the way up until now.

10

My name is too damn long.

My full name is Rosalyn Annabeth Weasley Malfoy and that is a mouthful. Mum say my first name was her idea, I was born in April just as the tiny buds started to peak their heads out of the stalks. She said that Roses were always her favorite flower. I would have just been Rose but Grandma Granger said that her great aunt was a Rosalyn and I should be one too. Thanks, Grandma Granger.

My middle name was dad's idea. He had just finished reading some novel when I was born. It was a wizarding novel about a fictitious heroine named Annabeth who was sorted into Gryffindor and had the appeal of my Uncle Harry yet the class and charm of Uncle George. Dad said he wanted me to turn out like that.

It's funny because I am nothing of the sort.

9

Hugo is one of my best friends

Most people hate their siblings with a burning passion that rivals the pits of hell. Well I'm different. Hugo and I were always the outcasts of the family along with Albus Severus Potter. All three of us were the only members of the family to not be placed in "Goody-Gryffindor." Hugo and I were in Ravenclaw, getting our wits on the good end of our genes. Al was in Slytherin.

The three of us were inseparable. We did everything together up until the day Al and I border the train by ourselves. We sat in the cart and watched the train roll by a bleary-eyed Hugo on the platform. We sat silently until the door to our compartment swung open. This brings me to the next point.

8

I realized I hated Scorpius Malfoy just three seconds after I fell in love with him.

I've kept this from Scorpius as long as possible. His ego is already inflated so much that his head barely fits through the door. This would only fuel him more.

He sat down next to Albus with a smug smirk and stuck out his hand, his high voice squeaked out: "I'm Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy and I'm going to be the smartest kid in our class."

I instantly cringed. Did this punk know that my dad said it was my place to be top of the class? I ignored what my father said about not talk to boys (and I quote "Especially not any Malfoy's Rose!") and hugged my arms against my chest.

"Say who?" I sneered. "I'm just as smart as you!"

The ivory haired boy merely quirked an eyebrow and took his hand out of Al's grasp. His eyes raked over my Chuck Taylor's; faded, grass stained jeans; and old knit sweater. "It's on," He drawled. "The smartest person in seventh year has to kiss the other person!"

Albus gasped besides Scorpius. He shook his head as I stuck my hand out to grasp his. "Fine! I'm Rose," I said.

"It's a pleasure,"

7

Scorpius was my first kiss

He'll never know though. It was too much fun watching him glare and growl at any other male within a twenty foot radius during third year.

In fourth year, he cornered me and started taunting me about how he was right on my ass with his grades. I, being a wise crack, told him that I was so far ahead of him; I thought he might actually like eating my dust.

Then he kissed me.

Right there in the deserted hallway. I was only fourteen yet with the amount of sappy muggle movies mum had, I knew where it went from there. But I shortly realized that life is not a sappy muggle movie.

After that, Malfoy and I became friends. Al was pleasantly surprised. It wasn't until sixth year that the world came crumbling down. We got in a fight, one about his girlfriend Analisa Zabini.

6

I loved Scorpius all the time I was fighting with him

From when I was sixteen up until my twentieth birthday I didn't see Scorpius. He seemed to disappear off the face of the earth. This sent me into what Al called "The Wilted Rose."

I wouldn't eat or talk to anyone and alcohol became my best friend. It would go out and drink until I spewed, go home and let Hugo hold my hair back while I sobbed over the toilet. On the night after my birthday, I went to my favorite bar.

It was ten on a Saturday night so the place was jumping with perverted old folks and tipsy teens. I sat with my head down on the bar, a glass of scotch sitting down. My finger was lazily drawing circles on the rim.

I remembered wanting to go to work. It was the only place where I could be by myself, devoid of any emotions or pestering cousins and siblings. I was a robot placed in the skin of Rose there. Barking orders to the trainees and running the ward I was assigned to like a dictator.

My boss wasn't stupid, however. She saw that I was emotionless and uncaring and gave me the weeks of my birthday off to "go have fun because I'm only twenty for Merlin's sake!" So I went to the bar every night, got piss drunk and staggered home.

That night, an old guy, probably forty or so; was hitting on me. I was about to politely tell him to go fuck himself with a hand pulled mine off of the rim of my glass.

"Hey!" I slurred. I tried to grab my glass back but the intruder had given it back to the bartender. "Who do you think that you is?"

I looked up and was met with the piercing glare of Scorpius Malfoy. His gaze was cold, his lip twitched. I was sobered up instantly. My mouth hung agape as I raked my eyes over my old best friend.

His ivory hair was slicked back, unlike the messy mop he donned in school. His pale skin seemed almost iridescent in the bar lighting. He was still there though, my Scorpius. My Scorpius and his toned body and his hard jaw and his grey eyes.

"What happened to you?" Scorpius breathed. I just stared at him, my face in a hard line.

Finally, I flung my arms around his neck, breathing in the scent I had missed for so long; woodsy, musky Malfoy scent. The tears sprang in my eyes as I felt his arms clench around my waist. It was like he was my owner and I was his possession. Quite frankly, I didn't mind.

5

A day before we got married, Scorpius and I eloped.

I was just sick of all of the planning and whatnot. Astoria was having a cow over everything and anything. So when I was sitting on my bed in the Malfoy Manor, Scorpius in the shower, I decided to run off.

He walked out in just a towel and I jumped him. "Let's get married tonight." Without a second thought, he nodded and we slipped out of the house.

We went to some old house that was in bits and pieces. It was sufficient, good enough to get us a marriage certificate with a small smiley sticker in the corner. It hangs proudly on the wall of our office.

I believe it's safe to say that Scorpius and I only know that it's the real thing.

4

I wanted to name our kids something classy, what I got was a constellation and a flower.

I didn't know, but apparently it's tradition in the Malfoy to name your child something extremely absurd. So when Scorp and I found out we were having a boy just a few months after we just married (let's just pretend that I was a virgin when I walked down aisle) he turned to his father.

So Draco Malfoy, curse breaking master, my idiot husband and I all sat down at a coffee table in the Manor and scanned through a book seven hundred billion pages big.

Draco wanted to name our son Crux Caelum. It was quickly outlawed. Scorp had the brilliant idea to name our son Athena. I had to spend a good hour trying to explain to him that in muggle mythology, it was the female goddess while he countered with the fact that our son was going to a wizarding school.

Thankfully, Astoria and my mother emerged from the kitchen with a plate of sweets and the idea of a constellation and flower concept, to represent each sides of the family. So we settled on Perseus Abrus Draco Malfoy.

Perseus meaning "the hero" and Abrus being a beautiful flower that seemed to flow with Percy's name. Draco of course was insisted on being added onto the end of my son's name because "it's tradition." But if Uncle Percy asks, my son is named after him.

Three years later, I gave birth to my daughter, Phoenix Bellius Jean Malfoy. Less thought was put into her name. She doesn't know, and I hope she won't ever know, but Scorp and I simply found one of the most feminine names on the list and paired it with a flower that it sounded good with. Finally we tacked on my mother's name for good measure.

3

I wanted Phoenix to watch her brother succeed and strive to be better than him, that didn't happen.

Perseus was sorted into Ravenclaw in his first year. There, he almost broke every school record his father or I held. He toped my grade record by getting full points on almost everything and passed Scorpius' Quidditch records with flying colors.

He was deemed "The Prodigy" by The Daily Prophet. Percy didn't let it get to his head, however, he was a shy kid. We, Scorpius and I, always wondered where he got that from, because it certainly wasn't from either of us.

He had a few friends, Mary Elise, who we called Emmy, and her brother Christian as well as Al's daughter Aurorie Lily. After graduating top of almost everything, Perseus went on to marry Mary Elise. They're expecting their first child soon.

Phoenix took a bit of a different route. She was also head of her grade and took the title of Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team in her fifth year. Quidditch was her life. She loved every second of it and I was constantly reprimanding her for sneaking out to fly late at night.

When graduated, hundreds of teams all over the world were throwing money at her feet to try and get Phoenix to come play for them. She chose to play for the Hamish, an American team with one of her close friend's, Taylor Thomas.

Taylor was a respectable boy, kind and caring, his value were high as well. I always suspected him to be with my daughter. I actually wanted him to be.

So when Nexie came home one Christmas with some short kid, whom Scorpius towered over, I was a bit shocked. And I'm not suggesting that my husband and I were rude, but we kind of treated a sulking Taylor a bit more kindly. It wasn't until the end of the dinner when Phoenix and this Paul guy announced they were getting married that Scorpius blew a casket.

Perseus and a pregnant Emmy sat silently and stared at him with wide eyes as he continued to rant and rave about how inappropriate and insane their plan was. I just looked at Taylor with sympathy, his dark hand raked into his black hair.

2

I hated my daughter's wedding.

It wasn't Phoenix.

Frilly pink and fluffy layer upon layer of her dress that Madam Jacqueline, Paul's mother swears she's the greatest in the world, insisted was worn at every wedding in their family. Why should the change now?

I stood and watched as she squeezed into the monstrosity with a grim smile. If she was happy, I would be happy. I'm her mother though, I know when Phoenix is mad or sad or even menstruating (it's a mom thing, you wouldn't get it.) Then, I knew she wasn't happy.

So I asked, again and again, if she was happy and if she was exciting or if she was nervous and if she loved Paul. Her nod was short and curt every time. So I went out into my spot next to Scorpius and our parents and sat silently. The music started to roll and I turned to watch my daughter take her solo walk down the isle.

The whole ceremony was nice, for a Barbie doll. It was too stuffy and too pink and just overall, "blah." The whole night, I kept looking for Taylor.

I found him piss drunk outside.

1

I think I'm physic.

Scorp argues that its "mother's instinct" or something but its not. I knew Phoenix would give me my first grandchild out of my two children. No, I don't think my daughter is a slut and no, I'm not mad about it. Maybe now she'll divorce that bastard of a husband and marry someone who actually deserved the beautiful creature that god has blessed my husband and I with.

She called me crying one late summer night. She had done a terrible thing. I already knew. Taylor was severely depressed. It seemed that every time I saw the poor kid he had a flask of fire-whisky dribbling out of his shaking grasp. Phoenix had gone over to shake some sense into him. It ended with them together in bed.

Nix was in a frenzy when she called me, mumbling over and over between gasping sobs about "protection" and "Taylor drunk." I told her I was coming over. She answered her door covered in a black sheet, the same sheet that she came home with the first time she was with Taylor in the few days before she went back for her sixth year at school. My eyes almost bugged out of my head as I stormed through the door.

My hand raked through my thinning red hair. I sat down on my daughter's couch and raised my shaking hand to my lips. An epiphany shot through me like a lightning bolt. I'm sure my mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water, I was at a loss for what to say. I was excited, relieved, disappointed, and shocked. So I just grabbed Phoenix and we cried each other to sleep.

So that's it.

She has yet to tell her father, or Paul but with the rapid rate that her stomach is growing, it has to be any day now. Taylor knows and calls me almost every night wanting advice or a question that he read about in a baby book.

It'll all work out.

At least, I hope.

A/N: Ooooooh. Shitty ending. I'm never good that those for one shots. Tell me, whatcha think? Is it a decent come-back at least? Tell me, o faithful readers, was it good? I'm working on that chapter of Scar Memoirs as well as more one shots. But as I said, school.

~The Lovely Zee