_{Theodora's outfit}

Theodora Kingstreet was one of those gathering at the stadium.  She was concealed under a very large brimmed hat that hid her large nose and blond bun.  Naturally, she had every right to be in attendance at Remembering Day - a privilege even the Wizengamot would not revoke her.  Although it hadn't stopped many who'd spied her already to remark on the sacrilege of a convicted traitor being present on such a meaningful anniversary. 

But of course, this was somewhat inaccurate.  Yes, Theodora had betrayed the Ministry of Magic.  But it was only mutually beneficial timing that Lord Voldemort had been attempting to do the same thing at the same time.  Kingstreet had plotted with Lord Voldemort only so far as she could gain control of the Ministry and put him down properly as Scrimgeour and Fudge had failed to do.  She'd toiled many years against the chaotic Death Eaters.  So you see, Theodora really had no link what-so-ever to the carnage that took place on the ground upon which she stood.

Everyone was moving into the stadium and up into the stands, but Theodora Kingstreet dipped her brim low and went left.  She marched across the open field, lit in the warm yellow of candlelight.  She approached a raised stage, almost two stories tall.  Atop the stage were chairs for dignitaries, honored guests and distinguished speakers. 

Exactly where she belonged.

Knox was seated on the dais, his chin on his chest.  His eyes were not quite closed as he sat in meditation.  The stadium was filling with murmurs and flickering candleglow.  Thousands of people must be here, filling the seats, and the lawns below.  He knew still more were gathered all over the Wizarding World, in towns and in great London, all taking time this night to acknowledge a very powerful truth.

The peace we now live in was won through sacrifice and compassion, not by a war.  At least, that was Knox Greyfriar's reaction to Remembering Day.  He would be speaking a welcome message on behalf of Hogwarts, and then turn things over to Marcus Annwyl who, rumor had it, had an Order of Merlin to award.

Memorial Ceremony Outfit

It had been a long day at work, but Moira had managed to get home and make it  for the Memorial Ceremony.  She filed into the stadium with some of the others, lucky to actually find a seat near the stage.  It would certainly be packed, there was not a doubt in her mind.

A few of the seats on the stage were already taken, and she saw Headmaster Greyfriar seemingly lost in a silent mediation.  How it was possible with the noise of the crowd she wasn't sure, and she looked around at some of the other faces.  A few were familiar, although none of them belonged to those she had a strong memory of from her school days.  She doubted she would really find anyone she knew among the crowd.

Instead she sat quietly, waiting for the ceremony to start, her mind drifting back to the day ten years ago that had certainly changed her.  The community had overcome so much and it was certainly a cause for celebration as well as a time to honor the fallen.

Sitting amongst the crowd, towards the front, was a family of 4 that felt the different emotions Remembering Day could produce all too well. Josh was sitting to the right of his father, Senior Auror Samuel Harcroft, with his younger brother Charles on his right. his mother, Auror Laura Harcroft, sat on his father's other side.

Josh was silent, thinking about remembering Day. it brought several memories to the fore, the terrible night Harcroft Manor was attacked being one of them. Charles hadn't even been born then, and it had been one of the most terrifying experiences Josh ever had. Then, there was the Battle of Hogwarts, when the Harcroft family lost one of their most loved members. Scireina Harcroft Riven had always been his favourite aunt, though he had never told his aunt on his mother's side this, and it was hard for him to think about her death, even now. and that brought up memories of Scirey, his older cousin, who had been kidnapped a couple of years back. sure, she had been found alive, but it had badly scared the whole family.

Dreogan entered the stadium in a state of silent attention, taking in faces. It appeared to be about what he had expected, though Dreogan had never been to Hogwarts and the sight of it took him back somewhat at the open grandeur of it.

He sought a seat , feeing isolated and a bit detached from the moment. Dreogan had no personal claim to today's travesties, though he had been in several fights himself. He had heard two men just outside the stadium, disputing who had more of a tie to this particular battle--who had lost more, who had given more . . . it made Dreogan sick.

Dreogan very much respected the event of remembering. The tragedies that were truly heartfelt were carried about every day  as they became subsumed, truly integral. He was not sure how much he laid by external remembrances: monuments, statures, plaques. To Dreogan, these seemed rather emblems of forgetting. The words in the mind, the feelings in the heart were externalised so they might be seen, certainly, but also so they might be detached. Separated.

It all seemed irresponsible to Dreogan. When he had first heard of the reenactment of the battle, he had been horrified, especially when hearing of the students' enthusiasm in donning roles. All chances for empathy were lost the moment it became playacting.

But Dreogan was trying to regain the spirit in which the event had been intended: respect, commemoration, mourning, progressing.

But to revisit it 10 years later? Did this wizarding community not pay notice to the other countless horrors--atrocities committed on a scale to rival . . .

But he was here for the moment. Dreogan had never been one to take things lightly, but he looked for a seat and spied a familiar face. . . and a seat next to her. He moved to her side--perhaps she was expecting someone, he realized--and hesitated. "Is this seat taken?"

For a lot of Aurors, the Remembering Day was very important. Tamis Raynor had told them not to screw up. Everything should go smoothly and perfectly. But  there would be mistakes, there would be a chance to screw up, and most importantly, a chance to get a promotion. No wonder they were feeling the heat. A lot of Aurors and Auror Trainees wanted to do their best and be noticed.

Since River was a new Auror, he didn't feel that kind of pressure. He was rather happy to do the job; which was standing around the perimeter. Well actually, he was happy to get a chance to be around Knox Greyfriar. He looked good sitting on that dais.

Not that he would tell anyone about that.

He fixed his glasses and decided to think about something less disturbing.

It felt like ages since she had been here, well, not really.  It had just been last year, but even since then, it felt like a long time.  Perhaps it was just the atmosphere that did that, but whatever the case, Akiva Katz could already feel her chest was heavy.  It was going to be hard for her not to show her emotions – she always found that was the case, and being here alone, it was a little more difficult than she thought it would be.  Moving through the crowd, even an average height witch felt quite small, and Akiva just wanted to find someone she even vaguely knew. 

It did not appear that she could pick out definitive faces from the masses of people though, and she really just wanted to find somewhere to sit in the stadium.  Finally, squeezing her way through to the seats and in a relatively populous area – the likelihood of finding someone to be near was higher, she managed to seat herself next to an older couple.  They were holding hands and appeared very solemn.  The woman had a red nose and watery eyes – already started crying.  Akiva sighed, it was her luck. 

When the woman next to her cried, she would most assuredly cry – not that she didn’t expect to anyway.  It was a hard day, as the consequences were not only lost friends, but also several unrealized dreams on her part.  All of this had forced her out of the wizarding world for some time and right back into the muggle world.  She hadn’t gotten to finish her education, at least not her Hogwarts one, and being at the school itself was a painful reminder of what she didn’t have.  That was selfish, however, and she didn’t mean to think that way.  Lowering her head, she cradled her hands in her lap, bouncing her hands on her knees rather awkwardly in silence. 

She was starting to get lost in her thoughts when she heard a voice.  Glancing upward, she was surprised to see her newest acquaintance from the ministry, Dreogan Eleor.  Ms. Poole had so rudely pulled her away so quickly, and she would have smiled wider if not for the fact that she was in a very solemn environment and didn’t feel much like smiling – in fact, she felt very much like crying already.  Blinking at him a few times, trying to process the question, Akiva shook her head.  “Oh, no no, not at all,” she informed him, “by all means, take a seat.”  She gave him a small attempt at a welcoming smile, but her whole body was a little heavy with memory of the events to truly be her more cheerful and peppy self.

The speeches would be starting soon, of course, and she wanted to be able to listen.  Watching the mainstage, she recognized Knox Greyfriar and another figure was moving up the stairs.  How strange! It was a witch, she didn't recall any female speakers, and Tamis wasn't that tall... She tried to lean more to see, but it was to no avail, too far back to be able to see with any precision.  She would be introduced, Akiva figured and anxiously glanced back to the seat next to her.

Felix had taken his time, walking around the festivities of Remembering Day. So many tried to be happy, quite a few pulled it off. Why couldn’t he give it up? Why couldn’t he look at it as a good thing? Frowning to himself (a look that had been quite normal for him to sport as of late), Felix’s eyes swept the room. Gabby had thought he would be too much of a coward to show up. He almost had refused to leave… Swallowing a bit, trying to remind himself of the reasons he’d come, he walked slowly into the stadium.

He had all ready attempted to go in three times, and each time he had had to step back outside to regain his composure. He wasn’t going to have a pity party, not in front of so many people. He could wait until he got home to do that. Merlin! He was weak. Reminding himself of that only made him grit his teeth and want to try harder. His chin went up as he walked towards the front. This would be easy. She would have had no trouble coming, if the positions were switched. She had always been a bit stronger than him, though.

He wasn’t sure where Gabby was, come to think of it… He had seen her earlier, while she was with her friends doing… something. He assumed she would be easy to find later—that was a laugh, considering how many people were there. His parents and brother were even here. Felix didn’t quite understand why Gabe came; perhaps only to pay his respects. Whatever the reasoning, he didn’t really feel like sitting near them. Felix understood what they would be thinking, on some level.

He finally gave in; he knew where they were because they had gone in all ready, and his brother had come out to try and coax the older man in. Waving at his father, who was turned towards him, Felix took in a deep breath through his nose before letting it out hard and fast. Just get this over with… Sitting next to his dad, his mother and brother on the other side of his father, Felix merely frowned and looked on. They didn’t try to bug him about his attitude today. He’d been a bit sour since the festivities had started.

Felix should have had a couple of firewhiskey’s before coming in. Glancing around, attempting to see if anyone else had some, he wondered if he could get one before the ceremony started. It sounded good, to whet his appetite… Pulling down on the black robes he had on, he leaned back and pursed his lips. He'd decided with a simple black outfit, to show... well, he wasn't quite sure. Black was the color of mourning. Clearing his throat, he merely nodded at a question from his mother.

Black trousers, well tailored, black collar shirt, and black tight robe--he was still sharp even when he wanted to gouge his eyes out. Okay, maybe not that bad, but it was still pretty hard for him to have come all the way to Hogwarts, much less sit there and act like he was fine. Tugging at the end of his shirt, forcing some of it out from under the robes end, he huffed in irritation. Ten years... so much time. Should've had a firewhiskey when he had the chance.

Universal Auror Uniform
Ranks
Hats

Ranks & Hats based shamelessly off of the British Military.

---

More candles rose up solemnly into the air as the stadium progressively began to fill, the flickering orange glow inflaming the gold enameled uniform of the Auror stationed less-than-discretely at a corner of the raised stage. The signature Auror scarlet cloak concealed the hands she had clasped patiently behind her back brushed the heels of her boots as she stood at ease, waiting for the formalities to commence. The crossed wands, the symbol of the Aurors, stood out on the cap worn snuggly above an orderly bun at the nap of her neck. Under its brim, gray eyes studied the crowd in a misleadingly bored fashion.

Against the doom and gloom, the battalion of Aurors strategically formatted across the Quidditch Pitch blazed in crimson and gold. To some of them, this was a yearly annoyance where they had to get dressed up and stand around with leg cramps and itching noses for hours on end. They knew if they didn’t, Raynor would see to it that their chance for promotion was forevermore compromised. But for many others, including her, it was an opportunity to honor the comrades that had been lost especially.

At the time, the Ministry had fallen to the corrupt power of the Death Eaters and most of the Aurors had disbanded, refusing dark wizard command. There had been no one to call them to arms. Technically, they were no longer Aurors and were not obligated to fight. As the students and staff that day had not been obligated, or any of the other civilians that took up their wands. But they had still had. Many of them had died representing everything that an Auror should be. Tonks, a good friend and frequent partner. Kay, who she had known, yet never really known. And many others. So, every year, the almost forgotten uniform was donned in honor of what those lost during the battle had died for and what this Corps continued to stand for.

Tamis Raynor had been present at the Battle of Hogwarts having been currently under detainment at the Ministry of Magic when it happened. Unlike most of her associates, she had chosen to stay behind when the Ministry fell, believing then more than ever that good people were needed on the inside. Of respectable linage and a clear, obedient record, they had kept only a half trained eye on her. From her position, she helped smuggle ‘arrested’ individuals back out – until she had been discovered. Raynor still refused to talk about that particular experience; it did not warrant pleasant reflection. If it had not been for the warriors that had flocked to Hogwarts and the proceeding events to You-Know-Who’s downfall, she expected that it would have become far more unpleasant.

Clasping and unclasping her fingers behind her back, Tamis exhaled a deep breath.  The woman rarely slept during this event and had been particularly merciless on herself today. Thanks to a itchy fingers and some snakes, Raynor had spent most of her afternoon intimately with Covadonga Gertrudis yesterday, loitering in a hospital and washing blood off her uniform instead of seeing to the last of the preparations. She had just finished her last round of badgering her men a mere ten minutes ago.

Now that she was sure that they were all where they should be, intoxication free, and that they had nothing of consequence to report, all that was left to do was wait.

Aileen wasn’t sure exactly what she was doing here. She’d managed the earlier part of the day just fine, walking around Hogsmeade, seeing familiar faces, and enjoying the celebrations. Since night had fallen, however, the celebrations and remembering activities had taken a decidedly somber tone. It was only appropriate considering what they were remembering. Still, Aileen felt out of place. She wasn’t used to being in a crowd and feeling like a stranger, as if she was missing something important. This wasn’t a day she could laugh, joke about, or make light of. All she could do was be polite and try to be sympathetic.

With this in mind, she carefully hid her unease and walked into the stadium, immediately struck by how many people were there already. Rows of floating candles surrounded the area and lit up the seats with a soft glow. It was barely recognizable as a Quidditch stadium, with the stars overhead, the night breeze, and the steady hum of whispers and murmurings. Aileen scanned the faces and wondered if she should attempt to find her family. Her parents were there somewhere, probably sitting with their wealthy friends and talking about how awful the battle was, even though they hadn’t been there, and how it would be nice if these seats only had backs.

No, she was not sitting with her parents. And Merlin help her, she’d better pick a place to sit quickly if she didn’t want her brother Trevor waving her over. Her brother wasn’t that bad. His wife and kids, on the other hand… she just didn’t want to deal with them right now.

Aileen gravitated towards the Slytherin section of the stadium out of habit from her school days, and walked up, keeping an eye out for people she wanted to avoid. As she climbed the steps she picked up her dark green robes.

Her mind was wandering again, seeing all the faces and those that already had tears in their eyes. During times of tragedy, it was said that you could remember the exact place you were, what you were doing, who you were with, and how you felt. Aileen hadn’t even been in the country. She’d conveniently been traveling for her work, and had found out about the Battle a day late. She knew that there was nothing wrong with following her goals and doing what she’d wanted to do with her life, but a small part of her felt guilty now. While threats of war grew increasingly stronger and darker, and people were being discriminated against and killed, she’d wanted no part of it on either side. Aileen had been as neutral as she could have been. It was the right move for her at the time, but today she almost felt like she had missed out on something vital, something that brought the wizarding community together and made them strong. No wonder she felt like an outsider. She hadn’t lost any friends or family, or sacrificed anything, or helped anyone. The only thing she’d done was hightail it out of London before war broke out.

Just pick a seat, she reminded herself irritably, faltering in her steps. She looked out at the faces again, easily picking out the family groups, and glancing over another set of parents with their older children. Two men. A handsome face. Wait. She inspected him more closely. Was that Felix? He looked up, stared into space, and heaved a sigh. That was definitely Felix.

Without thinking about it too much, Aileen started towards him, walking around the seated rows of people and taking care not to step on their feet. She’d heard more and more about him over the days- people liked to talk, and his daughter speaking up in that Daily Prophet article hadn’t helped. They’d been on a few casual dates, and she liked him. It was nothing serious but she did enjoy spending time with him.

She was a few feet away from him now and realized that he looked as nice and well-dressed as ever, but his face… was different. It was sad. There was no cocky smile, no light in his eyes. Aileen suddenly felt unsure. Was she imposing? Did he want to be alone with his family? He had every reason to want some peace and quiet. She hesitated, but before she could decide anything, he turned his head and saw her.

She smiled quickly and stepped forward. “I just wanted to say hello.” She glanced at the rest of his family. “Mind if a sit with you for a while or is this seat taken?”

Marcus' Remembering Day garb

As Marcus watched as the crowd made their way into the stadium, he couldn't hel[p but feel just a little bit useless at this point. Tamis was keeping her ducks in a row, Alex was running around making sure that security was prepared for the worst, and countless others were checking and double checking various accessories pertaining to tonight's event. Marcus was just standing in front of the elevated stage, looking for something to do.

The fact was, the only thing he needed to do was concentrate on his speech and the Order of Merlin ceremony. It just felt weird having to sit on his hands and just wait to speak. He resigned himself to assisting in some way, and made his way up the stairs to sit in his seat.

"Knox, good to see you again," Marcus said quietly, not wanting to harsh the man's apparent mellow. He waited to see if the Headmaster would reply, and chose to just sit down anyway. He had an unusual relationship with Knox, in that there wasn't any animosity. Marcus made a conscious decision from the start to keep his nose out of Hogwarts. The past has shown that the school was as adept, or even more so, at mobilizing and protecting themselves from harm. He trusted Knox's judgement, and knew that if he needed help than he would ask for it.

However, he had no idea what Knox thought of him. Perhaps it was better that way.

It was easy to remember that night. He had seen many comrades-in-arms die bravely for no other reason than protecting what they believed was right. No one asked of them to fight, no one ordered them to fight. Marcus counted himself one of the lucky ones. Not because he came out of the battle alive, but because he knew what it was like before Remembering Day. He knew what it was like before May 2nd came to be infamous.

This was the first year that Marcus did not prepare a speech. He had vague talking points in his head, but he didn't feel like a written speech would speak from the heart. He was always adept at speaking off-the-cuff, and today would be easy because today meant something for everyone in attendance. He silently wondered if Theodora Kingstreet were one of the many in the crowd. The Ministry had their eyes on her ever since her early release nearly two weeks ago. Marcus banished that ugly thought, not wanting to think about how someone he trusted could turn out to be so horrible.

Marcus adjusted the tie on his black pin-striped suit, making sure it was on straight. He then checked his arm band. The band signified unity, and carried the visage of the flag of Scotland. Every Ministry worker carried one of these bands on their right arm. It's symbolism was meant to portray unity with the Ministry of Magic, who came within an inch of corruption at the hands of Voldemort.

His mind drifted to the many things he thought about when Remembering Day came up. For the first couple of years after, he had refused to acknowledge the time at all. He didn’t want to remember, he didn’t want to think about all he’d lost. Then time went on, and he became resentful for all those who seemed so happy and energetic when it came to the holiday. Then he just became a grouch for much of the year, preferring it to other feelings. It was easier to hide behind irritation.

As it was, he felt a heavy weight against his chest. He’d brought Gabby to one Remembering Day, a couple years before she started at Hogwarts, only because she asked to go. He had only been able to make it through the memorial service before he had to leave or risk hyperventilating. Since then, his parents would go, not pressing him until recent years to try and go again. Now that he was there… Looking down at his hands, he twiddled his thumbs. Things moved on.

His mother asked him if he was all right, and he rolled his eyes, glancing to her without a smirk, like he usually would. “I’ll survive.” Turning his gaze away, he looked over the people surrounding them. Then his eyes fell on someone familiar, and he blinked in surprise, sitting up a little. Aileen was there? He was surprised. Fancy seeing her there. A small smile came to his lips as she stepped over, and a bit of his icy exterior melted away with a friendly face.

“I just wanted to say hello.”

His mother glanced to Felix, seeing his reaction, and merely smiled at the girl before turning her attention back to the festivities, giving Felix a little privacy. His father did the same. Gabe looked on the verge of saying something, no doubt remembering her, but let out an irritated grunt as his mother pinched him to keep him quiet. Felix shifted so he was facing her mostly, slowly standing up. “Pleasure to see you, Aileen.” Well, as much of a pleasure as the night could merit, he supposed.

“Mind if a sit with you a while or is this seat taken?”

Shaking his head, now standing, he held out a hand for her, grinning. Seeing her helped erase most of the thoughts that had brought him so far down. She looked very elegant. “Please, sit. I would love a beautiful woman next to me.” Sitting back down with her, he turned his attention to her. A very happy distraction, now. “How are you doing, Aileen? I was meaning to ask if you wanted to go out for another meal this weekend…”

Then he realized his family had glanced towards him again, and he rubbed the back of his neck, smirking. Glancing to them over his shoulder, he held out the hand, palm up. “This is my father, Markus, and my mother Julliete.” He could all ready hear Gabe taking in a breath, and so he quickly added. “And I don’t know if you remember my brother, Gabriel.” As his family said hello and greeted the woman, Felix glanced her over, happy she was there. Leaning over, he gave her a kiss on the cheek. 

 Theobald was sanguine this night. He saw little  to celebrate. Too many had been lost: too many friends, too many family members. His thoughts at always at such times turned to Donovan and he felt a fresh stab of pain at his heart. He still missed him. He had learned to live with his brother's loss but the wound had never truly healed.

 What was worse in his view about the celebration was that the 'war had not been won. They had 'victory' but it was  triumph born only of one man's genius, one boy's courage and a chance of destiny. The Ministry had been corrupted and overrun. That should have led to a radical review of the need for greater vigilance and security but as soon as a little time had passed most people had settled into their former complacency. The Daily Prophet's interview with him had been proof of that if he needed it. If a new dark lord arose to threaten Laurissa and Charlton's future would society be any more ready to cope? Somehow Theobald doubted it.

Moira scanned the crowd as she waited got for the ceremony to start.  She did manage to see a few familiar faces, smiling and waving at one or two as they called out to her, equally as surprised.  None of them had been among her core group of friends from her school days, but they seemed as happy to see her as she was them and that was all that mattered.

She spotted a young Auror in the crowd, and her mind placed him among the Ravenclaw students, about four or five years below her.  She couldn't remember his name though, and she didn't dwell on it too long as her attention was drawn back to the platform.  A familiar form was making his way across it and a small smile formed on her lips.

Marcus was dressed in a black pin-stripe suit wearing the same armband as all of the Ministry workers.  She had read somewhere it symblozied unity with the Minsitry.  She wondered a bit at what he had planned for his speech.  They had spoken a bit yesterday about the ceremony and she let her mind drift back to the conversation, keeping her from dwelling too much on the horrors she had only experienced second hand.

It was truly amazing to see just how many witches and wizards made the journey to pay their respects. Some of them in attendance had nothing to do with the battle, and some didn't even live anywhere near the immediate incident. So why were those witches and wizards paying their respects? Was it out of genuine courtesy to the fallen, or was it out of a sycophantic need to count themselves among the bereaved?

Perhaps there were some like Jade, and showed up simply to watch the whole circus act take place. After he was acquitted and released from the Ministry of Magic's holding cells, Jade ventured back to Ireland to pick up the tattered pieces of his research into the wizard genome. He was so close to cracking it, and then he was captured and held up on some arbitrary charge. Science should not conform to the laws of society.

To Jade, Remembering Day was absolutely meaningless. There was work to be done, and never enough time in the day to do it. Jade massaged his temples, fighting off a migrane that threatened to make it's presence known. Analiza Snark, his new boss, had sent him specifically to observe. To see the types of people that Project Cupid could protect. It was utterly ridiculous.

Analiza Snark's idea was a good one, and she would need Jade to assist her, as well as keep a fair amount of secrets. Jade had found that he needed her help as well, for the sake of his own research, even though he found her reasons to be entirely unpure in the name of science. She had a very keen intellect, and despite his differences, found it easy to talk to her about more unorthodox methods. Perhaps, in time, he could come to respect her.

Jade continued to sit in his seat, trying his hardest not to communicate with anyone. There weren't many that knew him, so the task would not be too difficult.