Title: Code of the Griffin

Author: Knife Hand

Feedback: Constructive feedback appreciated, flames unappreciated

Spoilers: Nothing Specific, general for first few books.

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I do not own Hermione, or Luna, or Ginny, or Cho, or... I would buy them all but I am broke.

Summary: From a war ravaged future, someone is sent back in time to change the course of the war.

Harry crouched down on the inside of the window, his eyes scanning the street in front of him. Katie was two windows down and there were four squads of Order troops spread out in the surrounding buildings on the same side of the wide boulevard. The buildings were only illusions, part of the holographic training environment the Order used, and the four squads were the latest batch of new recruits to the Order. The Grand Marshall had combined Harry and Kate's requalification trail with the graduation exercise of the recruits, giving Harry command and assigning Kate as his XO.

Harry popped up and fired a burst from his P90 into the building across the street before ducking back down.

"Marks." Harry ordered into his radio. "Take a fire team and push across the boulevard. Everyone else, cover fire."

Thirty-seven troopers, including Harry and Kate, opened fire with their assault rifles and a smattering of light machine guns, trying to suppress the forces across the street, while on the left flank five troopers made a dash across the open bitumen. As the fire team began working away at the flank, Harry sent another full squad across on the right flank. With the suppressing fire from across the street, the two flanking teams closed in on the enemy and annihilated them, bringing the exercise to an end.

The holograph faded and the troopers lined up by their training squads and followed Harry and Kate out into the briefing room of the Chest. What followed was a graduation ceremony for the newly minted Order members before they were dismissed. Harry and Kate stood at full attention in front of Hermione waiting.

"At ease." Hermione ordered.

Harry and Kate slipped into parade rest stance.

"What was your assessment of the new troops?" Hermione asked.

"They are good. We seemed to have worked out most of the kinks in the training program. They will fit in well with the others." Kate replied.

"I concur. Reshuffle the squads to make sure there are enough calm heads and they will do well." Harry added. "How many squads do we have now? Ten?"

"A full dozen." Hermione replied. "Which is why I am assigning six squads to a second platoon. Congratulations, Lieutenant Potter."

"Thank you, Grand Marshall." Harry replied. "May I ask who will be my Staff Sergeant and who will replace myself in first platoon?"

"The post of second platoon Staff Sergeant is yours if you want it, Sergeant West-Potter." Hermione said, looking at the older girl.

"It will be an honour, Grand Marshall." Kate said in response.

"Good." Hermione replied. "I will consult with Lieutenant Diggory on the new Staff Sergeant for first platoon but the safe bet is it will be one of the Originals."

"My recommendation would be Bones or Longbottom." Harry said.

"Noted." Hermione replied. "Dismissed."

The newly promoted Lieutenant and Staff Sergeant both saluted and then turned and left.

Harry, Cedric, Kate, Neville and Luna sat around the table in the study of Harry's apartment. Neville had taken over as Staff Sergeant for first platoon and was quite happy at the promotion. Hermione had initially offered it to Susan, but when Susan learned that if she took the promotion she would be relieved from Champion Protection detail, she had declined. Spread out over the desk was the personnel records for all of the Order members.

The Grand Marshall had given them the task of allocating personnel to the two platoons. It was agreed that each platoon would have 6 squads attached to it, one of them being a heavy weapons squad. Luna was involved as head of the Snipers to determine which of the six sniper teams were allocated specifically to the platoons and which were left as unassigned assets. At Luna's insistence, most of the sniper teams were left as unassigned assets, but each platoon got one dedicated team.

Even after the sniper issue was sorted, Luna stayed to assist with the new squad rosters, thanks to her instincts about people and because Harry trusted her judgement and unique viewpoint.

After a few hours, with extensive input from all five, they finally developed a roster that they were happy with that spread the newest batch of graduates throughout the platoons and made sure that every squad had some battle tested troopers and calmer heads to keep the squad grounded.

Hermione sat, wanting to cradle her head in her hands but refusing to do so. It was late on Sunday afternoon and the other five people sitting around the table were idiots. For this entire weekend they three Heads and the two ministry representatives had been arguing, and throwing forth more and more insane and impractical suggestions for the new second task. Her own well thought out and detailed proposal was barely considered, mostly because it was in a presentation bundle that had only briefly been opened by Madam Maxime.

Some of the less insane options presented included something to do with a Volcano, suggested by Karkaroff and immediately shot down by both Hermione and Dumbledore, and another by Dumbledore himself involved setting up a series of potentially deadly traps of increasing difficulty, which Hermione shot down.

"Enough." Hermione declared, slamming her fist on the table. "Are you all out of your fucking minds? These suggestions are insane. In front of you is a folio with the task we are going to use for the Second Task."

"But…" Bagman began but stopped at Hermione's stare.

That stare chilled all of the adults to the bone and they all hurriedly opened the folder in front of them.

Jane Granger was moving through the party as if she belonged, her evening dress expensive enough to blend in but not so expensive as to draw undue attention, while being cut in such as way as to hide the small pistol holstered in a discrete holster strapped to her right inner thigh.

"Do you see your contact yet?" her support operator asked from the van.

Ever since the Grand Marshall (which is how even the Grangers thought of their daughter when she was in full Military mode in order to help preserve the memories of their innocent daughter) had passed on the information that the leader of the mystery group that they were hunting alongside the Order was Nicholas Flamel, which non-magical sources indicated died in 1418. The more relevant information, at least as far as MI6 was concerned, provided by the Order's operative was the business operations data. It was not encrypted but none of the code words that were used in the data related to any actual known businesses in either world, but there were some traces and hits pointed to avenues of investigation. Now MI6 was running a number of operations to get more information, even to the extent of putting her in the field as opposed to her usual role as liaison between MI6, SAS and the Order.

"Yes, I see him." Jane said just loud enough for the clear, flexible plastic adhesive microphone that was located on her neck directly over her voice box to register the sound.

She slowly made her way across the room, blending into the flow of people and making sure not to head directly for the contact, who had not yet identified as he had not been given details on who he would be meeting. Mere metres from the contact, Jane was about to give the recognition signal when her support operators voice came over her concealed earpiece.

"Abort. Do you hear me Jane? Abort." Came the urgent voice of the other operator.

Jane did not jerk, nor radically change directions, she simply kept walking past the contact and into another room of the party.

"Mitchell, why the abort?" she whispered. "I was seconds from making contact."

"The Opp has been compromised." Mitchell replied. "I just received word that Harker, Anderson and Jordan are dead. Williamson and Tyson are on the run. Tyson is wounded. The contacts are all dirty."

"Shit." Jane whispered. "I'll meet you at rendezvous three in five minutes."

They were all good operatives, two of them even having 00 status. This indicated that Flamel, or one of his lackeys, knew exactly what data MI6 had obtained and were taking specific countermeasures against it.

Not let her nervousness show, she exited the party without incident and made her way to rendezvous three and entered the awaiting van. The van quickly exited the rendezvous and made its way into the busy metropolitan streets.

Mitchell was up front driving the van as Jane changed from the party dress into a pair of comfortable slacks, a white blouse and a jacket, taking the small pistol from the discarded inner thigh holster to one at her ankle and checking a larger pistol before holstering it in a shoulder rig.

"Don't go back to the safe house." Jane said.

There was nothing irreplaceable, or able to identify them, at the safe house. It was unlikely, but if the contacts were compromised then the safe houses could be as well. It was probably only the fact that Jane had been 'out of the game' for several years and had been off the espionage radar since her quiet return that had allowed her to escape detection at the trap of a party.

"Where do we go then?" Mitchell asked.

"Pick a random direction and take us two cities away." Jane replied. "We'll catch flights out of there under our reserve identities."

Jane sat back and sighed, flipping through the reports that had come in about the five ambushes from the support teams. This Flamel bastard was good. It had taken some serious cunning and brains to set up the counter operation that had played out. She simply hoped that if either Williamson or Tyson was caught, or herself and Mitchell for that matter, that they did not give up who they worked for, because then Flamel would be able to trace it back to the Order. The method of the ambushes told her that Flamel was not only protecting himself but also looking for information. This told Jane that although the Order's operative had been uncovered, and paid for it with his life, they did not know who he worked for.

The reports indicated that they got nothing from the three dead MI6 operatives either. Harker had been cornered and blew his own brains out. Anderson had broken out of the trap only to be taken down by a sniper while crossing an open field. Jordan had fought so fiercely that they ended up taking him down with four grenades, after he had killed seven of his attackers whilst hold up in a defensive placement they had forced him into.

Jane just hoped her non-regulation exit strategy would help them escape. Most operatives plan for the quickest and most direct route out a bad situation. Directly to the nearest airport or train station after clearing out the safe house. By picking a random direction and going two cities further away it was adding variables that any pursuer would not anticipate and could not easily counter.

It was thirty-six hours before Jane and Mitchell boarded their flights, two separate flights leaving through different routes on different airlines twelve hours apart. By that time Williamson and Tyson were both back in the UK and Tyson was undergoing emergency surgery.

At Flamel's corporate headquarters the reports were filed, memo'd and analysed until, at about the same time as Jane Granger was boarding her flight, they were raised in a small meeting between Nicholas Flamel, Sarah, his head of 'international relations', and Gerald, the head of training and tactical operations. They reviewed the reports and came to the conclusion that the spy and the follow up work could have been one of five different operations. High on his personal list was Her organisation, but She did not have the kind of resources to pull off the follow up operations, those were professionally done, so the matter was frustratingly unresolved.