Rosie Weasley was strolling down the corridor with her best-friends, Albus Potter and Sara Coleman, a muggle-born.

"When you're dad finds out what you did to that Slytherin, you're gonna get it," Al alarmed Rosie. Rosie smiled. She remembered what she did to that seventh year Slytherin. He was three years above her—that did not scare her. When he stole her Chocolate Frog, she could not resist the urge of slamming him into the wall with a hex she read from a book.

"Nah...I'm his little girl, remember?" It was obvious to anyone who new Rosie and her father well that he doted on her. How she was "like her mother" and "like a Weasley."

"But you slammed a Slytherin into a wall! He's unconscious, has a concussion, and is experiencing temporary amnesia...His head slammed that desk pretty hard...As much as Uncle Ron loves to see Slytherins tortured, he doesn't want to know that his daughter is a sadistic and heartless bitch."

"I'm not heartless!" Rosie cried indignantly.

"I don't know much about your father, Rosie," Sara told Rosie, "But all I know is that you couldn't get away with murder."

"Well, actually—" Rosie stopped in the middle of that sentence. She was recounting the time her daddy did his biggest "push-over" act.

"Rose Weasley! What is that!" Rosie's father bellowed.

"What's what?" Rosie asked innocently in her six-year-old voice. She was dragging a very large bag that was even bigger than herself into the kitchen. Although Rosie was very strong for her age, she could not help but suffer from fatigue of bludgeoning a young muggle man dead with her Uncle George's antique Bludger Bat. The man stole her lollipop, for fuck's sake!

"THAT!" He pointed to the bag where the man's head was poking out with his own blood clogging his mouth. It left a crimson trail.

"Is that—that BLOOD!" Her daddy demanded, his neck, face, and ears scarlet from anger.

"Nope! It's ketchup that Hugo dropped!" She saw the incredulous look her father gave her. "Okay, it's not, but don't tell Mummy!" She allowed her shiny blue orbs to become glazed with tears. She also gave him a pout that she knew he could not resist. "Please? The man stole my lollipop!" She pleaded desperately.

Rosie inwardly smirked as she saw her daddy sigh.

"Fine, but don't tell your mummy, okay?" He told her in a sickeningly sweet voice that made Rosie want to shudder yet shout "YIPPEE!" at the same time.

Her father cleared up the mess with a few flourishes of his wand and gave Rosie a lollipop.

"I love you, Daddy!" Rosie squealed. It was mostly because of the lollipop, but she was thankful that he hadn't tattled on her.

"I love you too, sweetie."

"I know!" Rosie smiled and she licked her lollipop, skipping to the backyard to throw rocks at the neighbor's dog.

"Um, Rosie?" Rosie heard Al's voice ask. "Earth to Rosie!" He was waving a hand in front of her face.

"Huh, yeah?" She queried, still fazed from her memory.

"Would your father let you get away with murder?" Sara asked tentatively.

Rosie new that she was going to say "yup" before she remembered her memory. She giggled, though, figuring that keeping Al in the dark would amuse herself.

"Nope!" She said lightly."What kind of father would do that? You're joking, right?"

~:~

Rosie remembered her father cornering her during Christmas holidays. Before he even started talking, though, she began to talk.

"I know what you're going to say. But he stole my Chocolate Frog!" Rosie pouted and saw her plan succeed.

After about fifteen more seconds of trying to convince her Dad, he gave in and gave her a lollipop.

AN: Yeah, you're probably thinking, "What the hell is wrong with her?"

I think that too.

It's just funny how people make Rosie such a Daddy's girl! IT'S SO TRUE, THOUGH! Ron can't get enough of Rosie, and he can't get mad at her either...shows she can get away with murder!

I'm just exaggerating with this fic...