Disclaimer: If I were JK there would be an entire next-gen series out right now. But there isn't. So no, I am not in any way affiliated with her or the Harry Potter franchise.

(AKA I'm not JK Rowling in disguise).

Enjoy!

Days of wine and roses laugh and run away, like a child at play

three words, eight letters and I'm all yours

if only that was true

Lorcan

was the first boy to give her a rose
[but people cannot be perfect]

because she was Rose and he was Lorcan;
no, she was Naivety

And he was like a dream, the way he spoke to her

Like she was the most important girl in the world

He'd even taken off the thorns on the roses

She should've known then
A rose without thorns is like a life without living

And he said she was beautiful
And special

And it's me, not you, Rose.
I'm sorry.

Dominique had always been the girl in the shadows, on the sidelines,

and Rose watched as she took to the stage

She told herself it happens in life.

The scar was shallow

It healed

Leaving a slight crook in her heart.

Lysander.

Out of all the boys, he was the one who swore never to hurt her
(cross my heart and hope to die)

so she opened up her heart; he jumped inside and messed her up

With a voice like the ocean waves,

She was drowning and she clung to him.

He was the longest, the one with that gold ring in his hands,
that purple velvet box.

[[but gold cannot be pure, and people cannot be perfect, remember?]]

he had her future

YES

but she waited too long, scared to walk down that isle

so he stopped loving her, started loving Lucy.

Clever, pretty, witty, happy Lucy, and the cut runs deep and never heals and suddenly -

she's broken like a puzzle.

Rose likes puzzles.

But not this one.

Purple velvet is ugly anyway,

and it took her a while to get the pieces back, and then she saw there were half missing.

Everyone knows a

puzzle is finished

over,

before it has begun

if you never have the opportunity to make it whole in the first place.

She learnt her lesson

but love has no cure.

She was vulnerable.

Scorpius.

He was dangerous; his head was full of stars

She doesn't really know how it happened, exactly.

she was stupid

she told herself

just because you learnt the lesson
doesn't mean you can't live for the day

[[And that's what love does to you, in case you didn't know]]

She held him tight too, but her nails - they hurt him.

And he left her with the taste of alcohol in her mouth

failure in her hair
a rose in the mud,

he was never hers, that's what he said.

So pale, so white
Lily-White,

pure and unbroken by love.

unhurt.

She watches as he says those two words

three letters

I DO

to the white Lily

[[who stole him, because that's what she does]]

and Rose Weasley wonders with a grim satisfaction,

she who has never experienced hurt, cannot experience true love.

As for the Rose with thorns
love is now loneliness,

and that's when she's clever for a moment

and she realises

that her heart was made to be broken, in the end.

A/N: I don't usually write these sorts of free verse things. But I gave it a shot. Gold star for trying? Or better - a review. Even to tell me what you had for breakfast. Seriously.

-peonify