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.
Hermione stood in the predawn light, gently but firmly holding the wreath in her hands. She looked around, covertly, and estimated that there were hundreds of thousands of people in attendance, and this was one of hundreds of similar events that were happening all around the planet. Her personal bodyguard of Mantrath Special Forces stood about ten feet away, not happy that their Empress was so exposed on foreign soil, even though she was standing next to her counterpart, the Primarch of the Confederation.
The ancient and slightly haunting poem, read by a single, strong male voice, concluded and Hermione stepped forward alongside the Primarch in slow, measured steps, and laid the wreath down at the base of a small stone plinth that held an ever burning flame. As they stepped back, the next pair in the program stepped forward to lay their own wreaths. Hermione had been to this ceremony before, hundreds of years ago, both here and once back on Earth with her parents. It had changed little over the centuries, the tradition still as strong and meaningful to the participants now as they ever had been.
Hermione herself felt the importance of the ceremony as deeply as any of the members of the crowd, perhaps slightly more as this was for her not a commemoration of a long distant event and a tradition that continued to this day. For Hermione it was a way to reconnect with a past only she still remembered other than from the pages of a history book, and with a family member she had never even known. He mother had told her stories as a child about her Great-Grand Uncle, and that is why they had visited Brisbane when she was nine for the express purpose of attending the ANZAC Day Dawn Service. Her Great-Grand Uncle had moved out to Australia when he was sixteen, basing himself in Brisbane and looking to make his way, but when the Great War had broken out when he was twenty, he had volunteered to fight for the Australian Imperial Forces and had been Killed In Action at the battle of Lone Pine in Gallipoli.
This planet, Australus, had been one of the first wave of Colonies that had been settled in the early years after the general public had become aware of Magic. Unlike most of the others, this colony was not trying to run from the past or out to seek a new and clean future. They brought with them the essence of Australian Culture, which included the 'ANZAC Spirit'. The place where Hermione stood, the capital of the Confederation which now spanned a dozen worlds, had been the initial landing sight of the colony ship and the small plinth with the eternal flame had been the first permanent structure that had been constructed, while the colonists were still living in the prefab modules that had formed the bulk of their ship. Two months after their arrival, the entire colony had gathered to commemorate ANZAC Day just as they would have back in Australia.
The last of the dignitaries stepped back from laying their wreaths and a single woman, dressed in the Uniform of the Confederation Armed Forces, stepped up to the microphone to recite 'The Ode'
They shall not grow old,
As we that are left grow old.
Age shall not weary them,
Nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun
And in the morning
We will remember them.
At the end of The Ode, the crowed echoed the last line and then Last Post was played on a single bugle, followed by a minute's silence.
The ceremony concluded and Hermione's bodyguard took up their positions around her as she made her way to the Government transport they had provided for her State Visit. She was in the middle of a two week visit that had her visiting a number of cities and giving some speeches but was primarily focused on finalising the trade and mutual defence pacts between the Empire of the Eastern Reach and the Confederation. While the trip really could have happened anytime during the previous three months or the next six, Hermione had specifically chosen to come now so that she could attend the ANZAC Day celebration. She felt she owed it to both her Great-Grand Uncle and to herself to be there. Traditions like this were important to both commemorate those who had fallen protecting their way of life and as a promise to the people to uphold that way of life in the future.
Hermione was sitting behind her desk in her Ruling Lady Quarters just off the Gryffindor Common Room. Arrayed in front of her were what the rest of the Order called 'The Originals', sitting on chairs or leaning up against a wall. The eight other Originals were very different people now than they had been when Hermione had first invited them to broach the idea of the Order. Naturally they were all in much better physical shape but their personalities had evolved as well.
Cedric had always been charming and outgoing, but now there was strength of character in him that made people respect him rather than jut think he was a nice bloke. The Twins were still jokers and larrikins, but they had matured and now looked at a problem from all angles before proceeding. They were still good for a laugh but they had realised that some of their earlier pranks, back before the Order, had crossed a line and were determined never to do that again.
Ron had matured a lot and no one was happier about that fact than Ron himself. He now understood that nothing was going to be handed to him on a silver platter and what he got out of life depended on what he put into it. Given that he was now getting decent grades, the respect of the students and Order members and a real chance at something significant with a girl like Fleur, who wound never have even glanced at the old Ron let alone consider a relationship, he more than admitted that the work he had put in was worth it.
Susan had come out of her shell, growing from the polite but shy Hufflepuff who sometimes tried to fade into the background, if only to make sure she knew what was going on around her as her Aunt had always encouraged, to a confident and outgoing Sergeant who could wrap the Bulgarian Quidditch Star Victor Krum around her little finger. Susan and Victor's interactions were nothing like Ron and Fleur's. Everyone, including Susan and Victor, knew there was no future in their flirting and neither wanted one, but most of the Order were secretly hoping that Ron and Fleur would make a go of it.
Like Susan, Neville had also come out of his shell, maturing from the somewhat bumbling and introverted boy he had been into a calm and confident leader. He was not charming like Cedric, or fun like the Twins, instead he was like a pillar of rock that others could look to and take comfort in his quite strength. Neville had suffered more than most from joining the order, still getting phantom pains in his missing left arm, but he had turned that pain into a source of strength.
Luna was… still Luna, but perhaps more Luna than she had ever been; if that, or anything else about Luna, makes any sense at all. She still saw the world through a different lens than everyone else, but rather than be ridiculed and shunned for it, as she had been before the Order, she was now accepted and praised for it in her niche as a Sniper. For the petite blonde sniper, though, it was Michelle that had changed her more than joining the Order. Michelle had given Luna someone who truly cared for her without reservation, something Luna had not had since her mother's death.
Harry had undoubtedly been through the most and bore the scars of what he had endured. Not physical scars like Neville, but emotional. He had been mentally broken down thanks to his experiences and, with Kate West by his side he had slowly begun to rebuild himself. It was amazing to Hermione that someone could go through what Harry had endured, both from his relatives and his captivity, and not be embittered and vengeful, but Harry was not. He was still the same loving and caring man she had fallen in love with… twice. If nothing else proved it, then the way her had take in Kate West, a fellow orphan, and adopted her as his sister, giving them both a real family, would have been proof enough. Sure he was broken and hurting, but he was still Harry.
"What's up, Boss?" Fred asked.
All the attention in the room turned to Hermione, bringing her out of her introspection about the others.
"I have been thinking." Hermione replied.
"Big shock there. Somebody call the papers." George said, then saw Hermione's glare. "Too much?"
"I was thinking about traditions." Hermione continued, ignoring George's comment. "The Order is new, but the bond between us all is strong. And we have lost some good people. I think we need some traditions to recognise that bond and to honour those we lost."
"What did you have in mind?" Harry asked. "Something from the Empire of the Eastern Reach, or the previous version of the Order?"
"No." Hermione replied. "Those traditions are deep and meaningful for me, but not for anyone else. I wanted your input on the kind of traditions that are meaningful to this Order. We formed it together, we all get a say."
"You formed us." Luna said. "Now we form ourselves."
Everyone but Hermione and Harry took a moment to work through that to figure out what Luna meant, as she was usually not this vague anymore. They finally all figured out that she was in favour of the idea. The discussion was long, and in the end there was no clear decision made from this meeting, but there were a few positive ideas put forth that had meaning to the group.
TBC…
A/N: To commemorate ANZAC Day, 25th April 2015. Lest we forget.