May 2, 2098

Headmaster Neville Longbottom looked out over the crowd gathered beside the lake. The traditions for the Battle of Hogwarts Remembrance Ceremony had developed gradually those first few years but hadn't changed in decades. The memorial began at civil dawn, a precisely calculated event both Hermione and Ginny had tried to explain more than once before they all accepted Astronomy was not Neville's strong suit. Someone significant to the Battle or, in recent years, to current political events, was invited to be the keynote speaker; all the DA members had done it at least once. The Minister for Magic would say a few words ("few" being relative to the Minister in question; Neville remembered Percy Weasley's tenure as being particularly soporific); the surviving members of the Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore's Army, and the Auror Department were recognized; and the ceremony ended with a reading of the names of the Fallen Fifty.

Many of the traditions centered around Hogwarts itself. As the site of the Battle and the Remembrance Ceremony, with its students and professors being the bulk of the defending force, it was impossible to separate the school from the event. In recognition of the students' pivotal role, the procession from the school to the lake was led by the Head Boy and Girl, followed by each of the houses in the order of the percentage of eligible students who had chosen to stay and fight: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. There had been some discussion among his staff the last few years of mixing up the order to remove Slytherin from its pejorative last place, first stopped by Padma pointing out the houses were already in alphabetical order and later by Neville's simple, "over my dead body."

He had supported Professor McGonagall's efforts as Headmistress to increase inter-house unity and eliminate what had become accepted discrimination against Slytherin House, but to change their role in the ceremony was to change the facts of the war, and Neville would not allow that. Too many people had suffered for that reality to be swept under the rug.

Here came the students now. Despite their permanent age as seventh-years, Neville couldn't help thinking the Head Boy and Girl seemed younger every year. He still remembered when they'd had to instigate having the procession led by someone other than the first-year Gryffindors: the first year there were no children who had been at school during the war, when the somber, orderly march had disintegrated into a chatty, meandering stroll. Neville had pulled the Head Boy, who happened to be a Gryffindor, to the front to ensure an orderly arrival and the practice had stuck.

This year's speaker was a rising star in the Wizengamot, a young woman—Neville squinted through his spectacles, trying to remember if he'd taught her in Herbology or already been Headmaster by that time; hmm, maybe not so young, then—mentored by Rose Weasley-Malfoy. He cast a practiced eye over the more than two thousand children in his care, marveling as he always did at the numerical impact of two wizarding wars in a single generation … his parents' generation. They were gone now, of course, as were all the professors he'd studied under and most of the Order of the Phoenix. Molly Weasley was the oldest surviving member, seated in a place of honor with her children and their spouses, the latest Weasley grandchild (Neville had long since lost track of the number of "greats" the family was on now) cradled in her arms. Ginny said her mother often no longer recognized them, mistaking the various boys for Arthur or her brothers, but she could always be trusted to look after a baby.

As Rose's protégé continued on about the importance of honorable service and community involvement in government, Neville's mind drifted back to the DA reunion Hannah and CeCe had hosted at the Leaky Cauldron last night. That was a tradition that just sort of "happened" too; with him, Ginny, Luna, and Lavender all still at Hogwarts that first year, there had been no formal gathering of the DA, but on the second anniversary Lavender had organized a get-together at the Leaky the night before the memorial. Unlike the end-of-summer party held at various Weasley-Potter homes that seemed to get bigger every year, the May first meeting was just the ones who had lived and fought at Hogwarts in '97-98. With no spouses, no kids, no Harry-Ron-Hermione … it was shrinking. While not yet old enough to die peacefully from age, illness and disease were starting to pick them off one by one. Just this last year, Michael Corner had finally succumbed to the long-term effects of torture and Ginny's blindness had become absolute.

Neville sighed, well-used to the melancholy thoughts that followed him on the second of May. Despite its victory, despite the decades of hard work and reform that truly had brought them to a place where the student population had exploded, where house-elves performed their work at the castle in view of their employers so the kids knew not everything was "magic," where magical creatures of all kinds gathered together to honor the significance of this day … despite all those successes, these early hours were always sad. The real celebration happened at breakfast.

The Breakfast Feast had also been an accident. Faced with several hundred grouchy students and a plethora of Ministry officials and honorees obviously reluctant to leave, Minerva had hastened back to the castle and persuaded the house elves to serve breakfast over an hour early, then invited everyone to the Great Hall. With such short notice, the first anniversary had not been a feast, but was welcomed nonetheless. Over the years it had developed into an early meal extravaganza complete with decorations and live music. Trial and error had reduced the guest list to the current Minister for Magic; the current Hogwarts Board of Governors; members of the DA, the Order, and the Aurors who had fought with them; anyone who spoke at the Remembrance Ceremony; the spouses and underage children of the same; and of course, all the current students, professors, and staff.

Once the DA's kids had started attending Hogwarts, their parents had naturally drifted to sit with them (or vice versa), and the Breakfast Feast had become the one occasion during the entire school year where house tables and loyalties did not exist. Yes, Neville thought, applauding with the rest of the crowd as the speaker took her seat, the Breakfast Feast was the best representation of what they'd all fought for. As Harry took the stage and everyone stood for the reading of the names of the Fallen Fifty, Neville straightened with pride. It had been a good hundred years, and he had helped make it so.

a/n: Once again, thanks to everyone who has read and especially to Arnel 63 for her efficient and helpful beta work! Mandy and I took Mother's Day off, but she (MandyinKC) will return tomorrow for the final chapter of Reflections. I've had a sneak preview-you won't be disappointed!