Neville's tenth birthday, like all the ones before, is attended by his grandmother, of course, as well as Great-Uncle Algie, his wife Enid, and his other great-uncle and aunt Marcus and Esther. It is a quiet celebration, although it would be, as the four guests are all somewhat elderly, and there is no chance of noise from any of them. The cake, a bright blue color, seems out-of-place among the mature attitude of the adults present, and Neville's quiet, slightly bumbling personality. It is delicious, though, and nobody says anything about the strange color, which had been accidentally caused by Neville when he spilled several drops of food coloring into the batter.
Once the cake is done there's presents, which are always practical, useful things-a set of robes from Great-Uncle Marcus and Great-Aunt Esther, and a book on Hogwarts, where he'll be going next year, from Great-Uncle Algie and Great-Aunt Enid. Neville opens his grandmother's present last, as Great-Aunt Esther snaps a picture of him while he's not looking. He's too busy staring in wonder at his present.
To most people, it wouldn't be impressive in the slightest. It's a relatively small cardboard box, full of paraphernalia that, on first glance, does not seem like much. A Hogwarts prefect badge, a Gryffindor tie, assorted photographs, and a few pieces of paper with his mother's slanting cursive and his father's scribbled printing. The notation on the back of the box, though, states, "Frank and Alice's things." He's desperately happy, because for a while, he didn't have anything of his parents. He picks up the photographs, which all seem to have been taken during their last year at Hogwarts, although there's two of them with him, as a baby. The papers seem to be notes, passed back and forth between his parents, presumably while they were at school.
He knows that the whole thing is sentimental, and has no practical value like the other gifts, but he can't help but think that this gift is the best. It's quite unlike his grandmother to be sentimental, but this birthday is special. He's finally entering double digits, the age at which every child considers themselves older, much more mature than they were before, and, he supposes, there was no better time to give this to him. He's going to keep this in his mind forever, this moment, and these things in the box, because these things were his parents', and really, he has nothing else left of them.
He finds the photo tucked into the bottom of his suitcase at the end of his fifth year. He's cleaning the trunk out, as there's so much junk from previous years strewn around the bottom, and he sees it there, stuffed in a corner. He pulls it out and stares at it, smoothing out the creases. The main focus of the picture is him, staring in blatant, happy surprise at the present, which isn't visible yet, as some wrapping paper still impedes the view of the camera. A piece of the bright blue birthday cake, which he nearly forgot about, can be seen in the background. His grandmother is watching him, a small smile on her normally austere pictures, and he can see his older relatives in the edges of the picture, watching interestedly as he opens that last gift.
He doesn't have the things with him. Never. He couldn't bring them to Hogwarts, because he knew that they would get lost. They're sitting in his bedroom, on the uppermost shelf of his closet, where, he knows, on the first day back, he will go over and pick up the box, shuffling through the items within to make sure it's all still there. Those things are treasures that to him, are even more valuable than a wand, or Galleons. These are treasures of the heart, not of the body or mind. These things may not have value to anyone else, but they do to him.
They do even more so, now, it seems to him, after the tumultuous events of this year. Everything stands out so clearly in his mind-Dumbledore's Army, Umbridge, the detentions, the Ministry of Magic, Bellatrix Lestrange...He feels like he can relate a little to his parents now, where previously he couldn't. They were growing up in the midst of a war, as well, fighting back once they were out of Hogwarts. Fighting Death Eaters, which he did in the Ministry of Magic...and came out of that alive and well (despite being Cruciated, which is something that he really does not want to think about), even more well than Hermione, the best witch of her age, who nearly died that day. He felt like a hero that day, that's for sure.
So he puts the picture back, and does not throw it out.
The next time he sees it is his seventh year. If he thought his fifth year was mad, this is even more so. Umbridge was a fairy princess compared to the Carrows, and what he wouldn't give, now, for that woman and her little Blood Quill, rather than the Carrows and their curses, which hurt a lot more, which are much more illegal. But he knows such a thing would never happen, that the Carrows are here to stay, and that all he can do is make it through this last year, and he'll be safe, or as safe as someone could be with Vold-no, You-Know-Who-effectively ruling the Wizarding world.
But he's a Gryffindor, and he cannot just keep his head down, so he formed Dumbledore's Army again, with Ginny and Luna's help, and the three of them, in addition to all the other members of the D.A., have been getting on the Carrows' nerves even more than they would of anyway, so much so that they're in detention nearly every night (which, of course, considering what detentions are, that's not very fun) and Gryffindor's House Points are nearly nothing, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw also dropping dangerously low most of the time.
He's in his dormitory, which is now shared with only Seamus, since Dean's a Muggleborn and Harry and Ron are on the run, and since Seamus is gone, it's a perfect opportunity to go through his things. It's dangerous to have anything D.A.-related, and he knows that he has several things that really should be transported to the Room of Requirement, which is where Luna's keeping all her things that aren't allowed. He's rapidly sorting through his things when he sees the picture again. He seems so young there, still pudgy and bumbling, where he's now transformed into a rebel leader, a little buff from working out, his stutter pretty much gone.
It's a reminder of nicer days, of calmer days, back when everything was simple. It's beautiful, really, and he slips it in his pocket. He'll remember it forever.