It wasn't that Rose Weasley was somehow opposed to the concept of sleep. In fact, she was quite fond of curling up under her quilt at the end of a long day, having just finished an interesting new book. However, the trouble came when, at the end of the night, she was only a few chapters in and the book was too good to put down.

"Rose Miriam Weasley!"

Two warm brown eyes popped open, still focused on something in a forgotten dream. Rose tucked her copper hair behind her ear without thought, and it sprung back to the side of her face with just as little effort.

"I'm up!" she called, rubbing her face in an effort to wipe the sleep away. The left side of her neck throbbed, and only then did she realize that she was still seated in her desk chair. The pages of the book before her remained pressed in the position her head had forced them into at some point during the night.

Rose had already pulled her wand from her desk drawer and was about to neaten her hair before remembering that she was still in her house. It was summer vacation, and since Rose was only twelve—

No, she realized with a start. As of today, she was thirteen.

Grinning, she stowed her wand and grabbed a hair elastic instead. She quickly changed into a fresh jumper and skirt and then hurried downstairs.

Aunt Ginny was assisting Rose's mother in setting the large kitchen table. Hermione Weasley was laughing at something her sister-in-law had said, and the expression lit her lightly lined face. Her hair, pulled away from her face, had already begun to expand from the heat of the pancakes she had made.

"Here's the birthday girl," said Hermione with relief, wrapping Rose in a tight hug. "I thought you had been up all night reading again."

"Of course not," said Rose. She had only been up part of the night, as evidenced by the crick in her neck. "Breakfast smells great, Mum."

"I tried to help," sighed Aunt Ginny, tucking a lock of flaming hair behind her ear, "but I think Hermione was worried I'd burn the place down."

"You did great," assured Hermione, though Rose was almost certain she was lying. Aunt Ginny never quite grasped cooking, which Rose didn't understand, as Ginny was excellent with brewing potions. Still, she was determined to help when she could, especially on special occasions.

James and Albus claimed seats at the table as Rose's father called, "I'll be there in a minute!" It sounded like he was still in his study, which was unusual for this time of morning.

Ron Weasley emerged a moment later, nearly hitting his head on the doorframe. He had the Daily Prophet in one hand and a mug in the other. He set both on the table to sweep Rose into a huge hug, twirling her around so her feet lifted from the floor.

"Aren't you seventeen yet?" he joked, ruffling her hair. "I could've sworn your mum mentioned we'd be getting your N.E.W.T. results soon."

"Not yet," said Rose with a grin, "but it's only a matter of time."

She sat next to Albus as Hermione and Ginny started plating the pancakes. James coated the bottom of his plate with syrup before handing it to his mum. Rose wrinkled her nose but didn't remark on his strange habit.

"Hugo was supposed to be home already," said Hermione, putting a plate in front of Rose. "He stayed over with Lily again."

"They were still fast asleep when I left," said Ginny. "I think they were up late. I swear, they'll run each other ragged."

Lily Potter and Hugo Weasley, only two years younger than Rose and Albus, were practically inseparable. In September, both would start their first years at Hogwarts— though Lily had attempted to sneak her way to the castle the previous year, much to the anger of her parents.

The adults settled in at the table, and everyone began to eat. The food was excellent, as was usual for Hermione's cooking. Some of the pancakes had come out in odd shapes, which Rose attributed to Aunt Ginny's attempts to assist in her birthday breakfast.

"Harry sends his love," said Ginny between bites. "He got in late last night and is trying to get some rest before heading back to work today. He doesn't have any time off planned until the end of the month."

"He'll get a week," said Ron, mouth partially full of pancake. "It'll be good for him."

The rest of breakfast flew by. Rose knew better than to stuff herself full now, as there would be a dinner with the extended family tonight where she would be expected to eat her weight in family dishes. As Hermione began clearing the plates away, Rose excused herself and started towards the backyard.

"Rose!" said Albus, and she stopped. "Could you actually show me that book?"

"Sure," said Rose uncertainly, giving her cousin a perplexed smile. As he trotted up the stairs and headed into her room, she tried to remember which of her books he had actually shown an interest in recently.

"Sorry," said Albus after closing the door, "needed to duck away from James."

Rose didn't understand until Albus handed her a small package with an envelope attached. She recognized the sharp letters on the envelope as belonging to another one of her friends, Scorpius Malfoy.

"I'm hexing him if he cancels," growled Rose as she opened the envelope. Scorpius had promised to come to her birthday dinner that night. It was the twenty-second of July, and neither she nor Albus had seen their friend since they parted ways at King's Cross Station.

Rose,

Please don't kill me. I really was going to come, but something's come up with my parents and I need to stay here for a while. I wanted to come see you and Al, but Dad says I'm not allowed to leave for now. I figured I should send this to Al instead of you in case your dad decided to blow it up. He still doesn't like me.

Anyway, happy birthday! I picked one thing and Mum helped with the other. You'll probably know which is which.

I'm still going to see you before school starts! Not sure when, but I'll be sure to write. If you don't get anything, ask Al. If neither of you get anything… I don't know, I'll mail the twins or something. I don't think their mum know I exist and wouldn't bother burning my mail.

Promise I'm not being paranoid. Can't wait to explain. Please write.

Scorpius

"Well," said Albus, who had been reading over Rose's shoulder, "I can't say this is unexpected."

"I can," said Rose, frowning. "I really thought he was going to come."

"I was reading Mum's copy of the Prophet before we came over," said Albus, "and apparently there's this whole movement to prosecute some of the wizards from the war who were acquitted."

Rose knew which war he was referring to: the Second Wizarding War, in which both of their parents had fought alongside other Hogwarts students and members of the Order of the Phoenix. They fought a wizard who had gone mad for power and immortality, dubbing himself Lord Voldemort, and his Death Eaters who followed his orders. Many died in the final battle, which had taken place on the grounds of Hogwarts itself.

She didn't have all of the details, but she knew that it was a complicated situation afterwards. The surviving Death Eaters had been put on trial after the Ministry of Magic had reorganized itself and replaced empty positions. Some had been pardoned for various reasons, or served lesser sentences instead of being imprisoned. Rose knew that Scorpius' grandfather was one of the Death Eaters who had not gone to prison, but she couldn't remember what penance he had paid instead.

She would have to search the Scamander library for clues. Her parents and the Potters didn't like their children reading books about the war, so they all had to go to Luna Scamander's home and visit her twin sons, Lorcan and Lysander, to do their reading. In the extensive library, they often got sidetracked by other books with colorful titles like Alighting Allegiances and Don't Drown Your Pixies: A Guide to Reworking the Unworkable.

"That would explain why he's staying with his family," sighed Rose. "I'm sure the Ministry will sort it out, they always do. We'll see him soon."

She unwrapped the parcel to reveal a sturdy leather-bound notebook. It was a rich caramel color and was smooth under her fingertips. On the first page was a short note in Scorpius' handwriting: For all of your ideas.

The package also contained a delicate bracelet. It was a vine made of silver with glittering crystal leaves poking out from the stem. Scorpius had been right: she was able to figure out which one his mother had had a hand in choosing.

"They're lovely," she said fondly.

"Yup," shrugged Albus, looking at the bracelet warily. "Come on, James wants to play Quidditch."

Rose chased Albus down the stairs, protesting. "But it's my birthday!" she cried. "You get to play Quidditch on all of your birthdays— and every other day, for that matter! I don't want to today."

"You never want to," said Albus as they entered the backyard, "and I didn't say we had to. I just knew where we could find James."

When one first left the Weasley house, it would seem that their backyard would never end. The grass stretched out on all sides, and then off as far as the eye could see. However, Rose knew that not all of the green expanse belonged to her parents. Their house was one of many surrounding the grassy area, which they all referred to as The Grange.

After the war, the Hogwarts students who had fought found that they had trouble living apart from each other. Harry and Ginny took time to travel, while Hermione continued to study and help rebuild Hogwarts. Others took their own paths: Luna Scamander (then still Luna Lovegood) had travelled to France and attended their magical school for an additional three years. Neville Longbottom stayed at Hogwarts, expressing that he didn't know what he wanted to do, but he knew he wasn't ready to leave.

Eventually, the decision was made that when it came time to settle down, they should all remain close to each other. It was Hermione who had found the land, and Ginny who had come up with the concept of spacing their houses like spokes on a wheel. The land was essentially shared property amongst a group of friends who had all started out as members of Dumbledore's Army.

The Potter house was technically farthest from Rose's, being straight across the center of the Grange. She and Albus could have grabbed brooms from the shed behind her house, but she preferred to walk. Really, she preferred to stay away from brooms as much as possible.

"I don't know what else to do with my summer," admitted Albus as they walked together. "I still have some homework to do, but I've done what I find interesting and I don't really feel like doing the rest."

"We can do History of Magic this week," offered Rose, though she was almost finished with her essay for it already. "I'm sure that's one you've put off."

"I even get bored flying sometimes," said Albus, stretching his arms over his head. "I know James' style too well. He's getting predictable."

Rose laughed. "I won't tell him you said that," she said.

"He's good," assured Albus, "I'm not saying he's not. But I've been playing with him for so long now. You've been there, you probably know most of his moves too!"

Rose didn't want to admit that she couldn't really follow their mock Quidditch matches. She sometimes acted as referee (always with one of her cousins or friends, who could cover her if she didn't know what call to make), but often she would stretch out on the grass with a book and threaten death to anyone who let a Bludger hit her.

The sun was high overhead by the time the Potters' house came into view. Rose was glad she had chosen to wear a skirt in the looming heat, even though it would mean her legs getting bitten up by bugs if she was outside for too long. She would have to ask her mum for a bug-repellant charm before supper.

James was already floating on his broom when they arrived at his house. "You came!" he cried. "I didn't think you'd want to play."

"Oh I don't," said Rose casually. "Actually, I kind of want to go read for a bit. You boys can have at it if you want, I don't mind."

James rolled his eyes. "Fine," he huffed. "If you're late for dinner, I'm sending a search party."

"I think that means me," said Albus, grabbing the broom that was leaning against the house. "Have fun!"

"You too," said Rose.

Albus hopped on his broom and shot out in front of James, who immediately began to chase him. She smiled and shook her head. Albus could protest that Quidditch had started to bore him, but he still had that same gleam in his eyes as soon as he mounted a broom.

The walk to the Scamander house was short. Luna was outside, a wide-brimmed hat concealing most of her face as she knelt in one of her many gardens, inspecting a wildly pink flower.

"Hi Aunt Luna," said Rose, trying not to startle her.

Luna looked up and smiled softly. Her cheek was streaked with dirt, and there was a purple flower tucked behind one ear. The flower's head was being partially crushed by the hat.

"Rose!" she cried. "Happy birthday dear. I hoped you'd stop by before dinner. The boys are in the library."

"That's where I was headed," admitted Rose. "How's the garden?"

"Adequate, I'm afraid," sighed Luna. "I'm trying to keep up with it, but I keep feeling like I'm doing something wrong. Rolf will be by in September and I'll have him spruce everything up then. That always helps."

Rolf was Luna's husband, though Rose hesitated to use so traditional a word. Rolf travelled the world to study magical creatures and was only ever home a few times a year. The twins hardly knew him, though neither seemed to mind. Luna had raised them on her own, though she always seemed pleased when Rolf came for a week or so. Rose was always itching to know more about their relationship, but it seemed out of place to ask such questions.

The Scamander library was nothing short of beautiful. There was a general system of organization, which Rose always tried to help with, but there were too many books for it to be called neat. There were always teetering stacks in corners and against shelves, and the desks that had originally been for reading had turned into tables to store more books. Now only the center of the room was used as a reading space, where Luna had placed large, plush chairs below the sunlight streaming in from overhead. Two of these chairs were currently occupied.

One of the boys looked up and grinned.

"Told you," said Lorcan, closing his book with a snap.

"I didn't disagree," said Lysander, not looking up. "I kind of assume you're right at this point."

"Happy birthday!" cried Lorcan, pointing eagerly at the chair next to him, which Rose sprang into. "I was just reading our new Defense book. I don't think I like it."

"You've gone to Diagon Alley already?" said Rose, trying to mask her immediate reaction with a tone of indifference. They typically took such trips together.

"No, Mum already had it here," said Lorcan.

A thought occurred to Rose: "Lorcan, we haven't gotten our reading lists yet," she said.

"I know," said Lorcan serenely.

She knew better to question him, just as his twin brother did. Lorcan was showing signs of having the Sight, and ability that let him glimpse pieces of the future. They had gone from subtle signs to the large, flashing, neon types Rose had seen in some of the Muggle films her mum had taken her to. Lorcan was studying with the Divination professor at Hogwarts to hone his gift, since it seemed to come in sporadic bursts that he couldn't yet control. Often he would say something and not realize he was referring to the future until someone pointed it out to him. Rose had adjusted to the odd outbursts and tried to not show when they spooked her, for fear of upsetting Lorcan.

Lysander finally looked up, keeping his finger in the book on his lap. "Sorry," he said, "had to finish that. Happy birthday, Rose."

Lysander was in Gryffindor with her, though both twins were a year her senior. Both she and Lysander were frequently asked why they weren't in Ravenclaw if they liked to read so much. She had grown tired of explaining that Ravenclaws tend to be voracious readers because they value knowledge, but there were other things she valued more. Now when people asked how she ended up in Gryffindor, she usually just shrugged and went back to whatever book she was reading.

"Thanks," she said. "James and Al are off flying, but I wanted to see some of your mum's war-era books."

"Should be the same spot as usual," said Lysander. "Not too much has moved."

Rose went to search the rows of books as Lysander returned to his page. Lorcan looked at the book he had abandoned, made a face, then picked it back up.

"I just don't care about Defense," he called to Rose as she searched. "I like Charms better. I don't really intend to go up against Dark wizards. Or creatures," he said, making another face at whatever was illustrated on the page before him.

"You never know," said Lysander calmly. "And there are plenty of charms that are useful in Defense, and defensive methods that will help you with your charms."

"I predict Lorcan hitting you if you keep sounding like my mum," called Rose with a grin.

The section of books about the war was smaller than the others, but it always held a sort of fascination for Rose. These books had always been off-limits to her and her brother, but Hugo had yet to show a real interest in what had happened twenty years ago. He had simply accepted that his parents were people of great note in the Wizarding world and not asked much more than the information he was given as to why. Rose, however, was fascinated by the histories and tried to absorb as much as possible.

She ended up with two books: How I Gave a Monster Mercy and Rebuilding Magical Europe. The first was written by a former member of the Wizengamot, the wizarding court that dealt with high level crimes in the magical community. The second was a compilation from a few authors, including (Rose was shocked to see) her mother.

"Did you know Mum wrote part of this?" Rose asked as she returned to her chair.

Lorcan shrugged. Lysander said, "I know she's written a bit, but I don't remember what books they're in. Mum's mentioned it a few times."

Rose knew that Hermione had been asked to write a lot following the war, and their own library contained a book she had written, along with compilations she had taken part in. Most of them were about coming to terms with the Muggle community and understanding their way of life. It was something her mother had always been passionate about, having been born to and raised by two non-magical people herself. She had made it part of her life's mission to change how the magical community viewed Muggles.

Lysander glanced at the titles on Rose's lap and frowned. "Don't let those stories from the Prophet get to you," he said. "Mum says this sort of thing happens every few years. Scorpius and his family will be fine."

"I just wanted to do a bit of reading," said Rose, feeling somewhat defensive, "that's all. Know more about what's going on."

"Before your parents catch you," said Lysander with a small smirk.

"Birthday immunity," declared Rose haughtily. What better day to be reading material her parents had declared illicit?

Rose started with How I Gave a Monster Mercy, flipping through the chapters. They were each titled after a wizard who the Wizengamot had tried, and detailed the case and the journey to reach a verdict. She recognized some of the names later in the book as belonging to former Death Eaters, but Scorpius' grandfather was not listed. Though a large number of the cases resulted in the wizards not being imprisoned, and some were even exonerated from their charges, they were still under the Monster header of the book, which rubbed Rose the wrong way.

The next book was about the journey to heal the magical community following the war. Rose skipped the details about how many people had died; there were some things she didn't want to dwell on. She knew that's what her parents were trying to keep her from by banning these books.

She found a chapter written by her mother, titled Healing Ourselves: Justice and Forgiveness.

I'm constantly being asked how I feel about some of the people who followed Lord Voldemort being set free, or not condemned to spend a lifetime in prison. Everyone who asks me these questions expects me to be angry that any leniency is being shown to these people who murdered my friends, tortured my teachers, and tried to destroy my world.

I am still unsure of how to express how I feel, but I'll try. Every life that we lost at the Battle of Hogwarts weighs in my heart. I can feel those names with each heartbeat. Some days are worse than others. Some days, my head doesn't dwell on that awful period of time. Some days, I sit in a room alone and let my head be filled by the names of the dead.

I can't add any names to that list. There are some people whose actions are unforgivable, and I want nothing to do with the sentencing of those people. I'm not saying that I can forgive what some of the Death Eaters did, but there are some whose names I don't want hanging in my heart. There are some where I want to find a redeeming quality to hold onto. I would so much rather say that a person has some good inside of them that is worth fighting for than condemn their life to what they've already done.

As publicized following the battle, Harry Potter survived the Killing Curse through a sheer miracle. It was nothing we could have anticipated, and nothing he thought was possible. He thought he was going to die that night. Honestly, most of us thought we would all be dead by morning.

More remarkable than him surviving that curse, however, was what happened directly following it. When asked to confirm that Harry was truly dead, one of Lord Voldemort's followers lied to him. She pronounced him dead, even though she knew he was still alive. Even with all of the awful things she had done leading up to that point, she decided that there was enough good inside her to change.

Narcissa Malfoy stood trial with her husband and son seven months after the battle. Harry testified on her behalf, detailing what had happened and how she had saved his life. He told the Wizengamot that every person in that room was still alive because Narcissa Malfoy had taken an enormous risk to save his life. He asked them to give her mercy in his name, for what she had done for him.

What Narcissa did in the forest did not absolve her and her family for all of the wrongs they had done during and prior to the war. However, it showed that there was something worth fighting for. There was a change that could be made. And I have chosen to believe that we, as humans, are inherently redeemable. A change can always be made.

It would have been so easy to see every Death Eater who survived the war thrown into a cell. It would have been just as easy to have lobbied for their execution and see every one of them die, when the Wizarding world was clamoring for justice and my fellows were hailed as Gods. But enough lives have been ended by this war. There comes a time where you have to move on. Clear your head. Don't forget the list of those we lost, but realize that there are other lists that have to take its place. I try to list the names of my friends who did survive, and take time to celebrate their lives. I list what we have accomplished in the years that have passed. I list the people I have personally seen grow from the mercy extended to them, and how the world has changed from their personal contributions to it.

So, how do I feel about the decision not to say yes, lock them all up and throw away the key? I am proud, and terrified. I try not to think about it. I'm scared that in forty year, we will be facing another war because of the mercy my friends and I lobbied for. I'm relieved that I'm able to take steps to move on from the tragedies I witnessed and the horrors that I thought would never leave my head. I'm proud that I am able to see the good in people when I have every reason to turn away from them.

You temper justice with mercy. You try to forgive when you honestly do not have to, and maybe you shouldn't. You remind yourself of the times you've been forgiven when you've done something you thought made you irredeemable. You think about when someone has stuck up for you when they didn't have to. You have faith in the human spirit. You have faith that we will persevere, and through that faith, the world will improve.