Hello, all! I hope you enjoy the small world that I created for this story. A lot of new information has come out regarding American schools, but I still think that a military-themed school is a must.

Disclaimer: I make no money from this and in no way own anything related to Harry Potter.

V1.2

The Academy

June 1, 1996

Dear Diary,

I don't know what to do anymore. I'm alone and I'm scared. The war in America is getting worse and worse, and no matter what I do to try and help, they tell me that there's nothing I can do. I want to help, but even my own school is getting attacked and I can't do anything! They won't let me do anything, not in my condition.

Twenty more Muggle-borns and half-breeds have left the school, and I've lost three more lives to those damnable traitors. There's an attack almost daily, now. I'm not sure what I should do anymore. The nightmares come every night and I can only imagine what those poor souls feel as they're trapped in the rebels' grasp.

I haven't seen Viktor in at least a month. I'm worried he won't be back in time. I know that I can't keep dwelling on that, but it's what keeps me awake at night. As long as I know that he's alright…that's all that I need. The rebellion in Bulgaria is getting worse, too, and poor Harry over in Britain, I can only imagine!

This will probably be the last time I write. For a while, at least. All I know is that this war will reach its climax sooner or later, and when it does… Well, let's just say that it won't be pretty.

First Lieutenant Leigh Anna Marie Nelson-supposed-to-be-Krum, signing out.

September 23, 1994

"I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the Republic for which it stands, one Nation, under God, indivisible, for Liberty and Justice for all."

I put my hands behind my back as I looked around the room, glancing happily at all of the new recruits. There were maybe fifty over all, each of them dressed in physical training (PT) clothes, as they hadn't gotten their uniforms yet—of course, they hadn't gotten their Branch yet, either.

The mess hall was filled to capacity, its white walls and floor shining as if they had just been washed, which I was sure that they had. The four, long, stainless steel tables had been charmed to make them more comfortable, though comfort was hardly on our minds; the food hadn't appeared yet to make us all want to eat and pull all of it on our mess kits.

Noise from the younger students filled the halls. My friends and I looked at each other and rolled our eyes. Any moment and the General would come in to let us relax. Until then, it was parade rest. No talking. Rules were a little looser at the beginning of the year but older students still could be reprimanded if caught.

Suddenly the room went silent. "At ease, students…which I see you've already done. I'll let you off easy, as it's the first day back," the Headmaster, General Harrington said with a stern look and a raised silver eyebrow. I ran my hands over my dress skirt before I sat down. He was standing up at the front podium, the enchanted eagle on the front flapping its wings at a bare minimum. "Now… it is time to put these students in their correct Branches."

The new recruits were fidgeting, worrying their hands, their legs shaking. Who wouldn't, when the CG in all her stern glory walked up and gave you that look? Colonel General Marie Lingam who taught History of Magic was the one who had stepped up, running her hands over her skirt like I did. She pulled a name out of thin air, saying, "Aniston, Chelsea."

"And so it begins…" Daniel Hartely said in front of me, pushing his glasses up his face. I was never sure how he'd gotten into the Army. He was a Navy Nerd for sure. "I'm eager to see the talent that comes out of this batch."

A roar went up from the Navy as Chelsea was sorted into their Branch. "HOOYAH!" The scared Seaman Recruit blushed scarlet and went to sit at the Navy's table.

"Arlington, Janette."

"We won't ever be able to see their talent," my best friend said from next to me, sitting up straight as I was. Her long black hair was pulled up in a stern bun, her light blue eyes striking against her peach complexion. I had always been jealous of Alex's perfect skin—never a pimple in sight! And her figure was much thinner than mine, while I had to be in the "fat boy" program once a semester. That was such a derogatory name for a program to lose weight. "We'll be out of here long before they're ranked."

The Air Force cheered as Airman Basic Janette Arlington was put into their Branch. "HUA!" She walked over, tripping, and sat down to many laughs.

"Brinton, Bradley."

"We'll see some talent. Enough to be able to hire them later. You know, once I'm the President. Maybe one of them will be my Secretary of State." He never stopped talking about his future potential appointments—today it was president, last year it was the first tech startup in the wizarding world.

"Keep talking, Hartley," Alex said with a flick to his little nose under those little glasses. "After this year, we'll see where we could end up." Internships happened after the fifth year of school. I crossed my fingers and hoped for an internship with the government, like my mother. Preferably with the International Confederation of Wizards, which was similar to the United Nations as an intergovernmental organization.

The Marines roared in approval, Bradley getting sorted there as a Private. "OOHYA!"

The argument was short-lived as Alex got distracted by some muscular guys over in the Marines. "Look it," Alex growled, glaring pointedly at the rowdy table of Marines cheering for their new Private. "Another boy getting inducted into the damned Leathernecks!" Alex had a thing about sexist organizations. And though the Marines weren't sexist, (anymore, at least,) she still hated the fact that very few women got into that Branch.

"Charles, Samuel."

"Don't let the LGLO hear you say that," I said, talking about Lieutenant General Charles McCoy, Leading Officer of the Marines. "He'll have you cleaning the latrines with a tooth brush." Technically they weren't allowed to do that anymore, but what the General didn't see didn't seem to hurt him any.

"Like the last day of last year," Daniel added with a smirk.

"Ugh, don't remind me."

Suddenly, Major General Leah Sampson, our Leading Officer, said, "Welcome to the Army, Private!" to Samuel Charles, and I joined in the clapping with the rest of our table, even letting out a HOOAH! with everyone else.

"So," Alex said, a glint in her pretty blue eyes, "I hear that the General has something special to announce today, once everyone is inducted."

"You hear everything," I said with a roll of my less pretty, more hazel eyes.

Daniel took from leaning up off of his elbow to clapping for "Eagleson, Mariah." He didn't bother with the cry as the girl walked up. "Yeah. Just because your father works in D.C. doesn't mean—"

"Yeah, well, Anna, your mother works there too!" Alex cried in hurt, a look of annoyance on her face. "She just can't tell you because she's special ops."

"She's not special ops," I said, punching her shoulder playfully. You've been watching way too many No-Maj movies. "She's an Unspeakable. She can't tell me anything, and I even mean what she eats for lunch. Hence the name."

"Don't say hence."

I smirked. "Hence."

"Jackson, Monroe."

"We're getting there," Daniel sighed, playing with the mess kit in front of him. His beret was askew, his slightly-longer-than-mandatory hair was peeking out from under it.

I looked around to see if an Officer was around. "You won't be getting anywhere if an MG or LG catches you with your hair that long. McCoy wouldn't hesitate to drag you by your toes, hang you up by them, shave your head, and leave you there for the blood to rush up."

"Vicious!" Alex exclaimed, wrapping her arm around my shoulder, her Class A's sleeve pulling up over her wrist. "I like this new you! What happened over the summer to make you this way, chicha?"

I looked down at my hands in my lap, quickly feeling sorry my harsh words. I hadn't told them yet, though I should have. I could barely believe it myself, as I had just seen him away at the airport yesterday. "My…my dad got sent out again."

"Oh, Anna," my best friend said softly, taking my hand into hers as Colonel Lingam said, "Mason, Phillip." "Where to?"

"Somewhere in Bosnia."

"Well, he's only finance, anyways, and No-Maj at that," Michal said, and Alex threw him the dirtiest look she could manage.

"Nice, Daniel. Good way to make her feel better."

"Well—" he said, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly, "I mean, it's not like the guy's on the front line. Besides, I heard that the mission was a peace-keeping one. He's just paying people off. And since he's carrying around the millions in cash, I'm sure he has a group of Marines surrounding him at all times, the suitcase handcuffed to their wrists."

Alex then said, "At least real Marines are better than the ones here. I swear, if at least one girl doesn't get in this year…"

Alright, so, let me back up and explain about our ranking systems. I'd heard about those at Hogwarts and Durmstrang and Beauxbatons and everywhere else, but ours were completely different. Whereas they had 'Houses' and 'Sectors', we had Branches of the Military. Now, the students weren't really in the military, but we were made to dress like our respective Branch. Our teachers, on the other hand, were the real deal. General Harrington was an actual General in the United States Army, as pure-blooded as they came. Our Leading Officers were all from their respective Branches, but most were No-Maj.

Tests were taken at age eleven, and by the time you were twelve, if you had passed and you wanted to go to our school over the three others in the US, you were went. There, each Branch's "mascot" would chose you. They were somehow magically possessed or something, and they chose the perfect Branch for everyone.

For the Marines, there was a bulldog that drooled non-stop. The Navy had a goat named Bill. I had no idea why the Navy would want a goat, but that's what the Muggle Naval Academy had. With the Air Force, there was a beautiful falcon, named "The Bird" because of the Muggle Air Force Academy.

And then, for us in the Army, we had something…a little different. We were the Black Nights, and therefore had no animal counterpart. So, the first General of the Academy decided to use the Black Night's horse. A large black stallion was standing up next to MG Sampson, ready to touch its nose to the hand of each student awaiting.

Not that there were many left. Now, Colonel General Marie Lingam was on "Young, Marissa," and I knew that things were almost over.

"Congratulations, soldiers, students." There was a mixture of HUAH, HOORAH, HUA, and HOOYA cries.

The "Headmaster" whom we called General then stepped up to the podium. "ATTENTION!"

Everyone but the new recruits instantly stood up, standing upright with an assertive and correct posture: chin up, chest out, stomach in, arms fixed at the side, thumb or middle finger parallel to trouser or skirt seam, eyes front, head and eyes locked in a fixed forward posture, eyes unmoving and fixated on a distant object, blank facial expression. Heels together, toes apart. No speech, facial or bodily movements except when required by military drill.

The new students tried to do as the older ones, and even some of the Second years were having trouble doing it still. My sister, Jessica, in Fourth Year and in the Navy had almost perfected her stance—our father and I had tried to help her as much as possible. And my brother, three years ahead of me and a Major, (an Officer,) was way better than I was about not showing emotion.

Our ranking system consisted of Officers. Each year past Fifth had one Officer, though not all the time did the Officer keep his or her rank. If someone more deserving of it popped up, they were instantly "promoted" and became the "Head" of the year. A rank could easily be stripped, as well.

"It seems that we are here, for yet another year. This year, as many of you know, is the one hundredth of our beloved Academy." Again, the cries of each Branch rang out. "We are strong. We are proud. And before we eat, I have two announcements. Most of you know what the first one is—the Naming of Officers!"

YES!

"When your Leading Officer calls your name, Fifth Years, I want you to step up." Only one person is picked from each Branch…oh, please, let me be picked, please, please, PLEASE! I really hoped that I wasn't doing a little dance in place. Dancing while at attention was not conduct befitting an officer. Well, I didn't think so at least.

Lieutenant General Charles McCoy, leader of the Marines and teacher of Transfiguration, stepped up, his eyes a steely grey, like his hair. Everything on him was perfect. "Second Lieutenant Leo Langston."

A loud roar went up from the soldiers standing around the table, and a tall, bulky brunette man stood up from the Marines and strutted proudly towards the podium. His Sergeant insignia was ripped off and instantly replaced with the single gold bar of a Second Lieutenant.

"Of course he would get picked," Alex mumbled bitterly, glaring daggers at the man as he strutted back to his table. Alex, of course, had a grudge on the man for some reason that she wouldn't tell me, besides him being a Marine. I assumed that they had dated and it hadn't ended well.

Major General Brittany Premont stepped up. She was the Leading Officer for the Air Force, her light, sparkling eyes filled with laughter like most of its occupants. Almost everyone in the Air Force could tell a joke that would make you roll and were considered the nicest out of everyone. Every branch had its exceptions, though. "Second Lieutenant Justin Lucas."

"HUA!" The entire table burst out in intense cheering, someone yelling something that made them laugh. He went up, got his Staff Sergeant insignia ripped off and replaced with the single gold bar on his lapel. He's a good guy. Good for him.

Rear Admiral Lucas Boyle, Leading Officer of the Navy and teacher of Arithmancy, stepped up and slowly and surely called out, "Second Lieutenant Oliver Bradley."

Oliver, one of the most popular boys in the school, stood up and walked over to the podium, where his Petty Officer Second Class insignia was ripped from his suit and replaced with the single gold bar of an Ensign. He was given his gold stripes to put on later.

Then, as Oliver was walking back, Major General Leah Sampson, my Leading Officer and teacher of Potions, stepped up, tucking in her already-perfect bun, trying to fix her already-perfect skirt. Then, looking at everyone at the table directly in the eyes, she announced, "Second Lieutenant Leigh Ann Nelson."

I had to control myself from giving out a giant WOOP! and then a HOOAH! But I stayed dignified as I sauntered up the steps, shaking hands with my Leading Officer, and getting my Sergeant insignia ripped off.

She pinned my Second Lieutenant insignia on my lapel and whispered, "I knew that the Knight's horse would pick you, Leigh Ann. Just like your mother, just like your brother."

I blushed with pride and squeezed her hand one more time before turning on the spot and moving with dignity back to my place.

The Headmaster stood back up at the podium, his melting blue eyes meeting with each and every student before he continued. "You all know your duties. You all know that you have privileges, as well, but your rank can quickly be taken away. Sixth, Seventh, Eighth, and Ninth Year Officers may be quickly bunked down to E-1 if I so choose it."

"Yes, General!" came the cry from all of the students, except the newbies who came in a few seconds late. It was all quite comical, even though I knew that I had been the same way my first year.

"Now…for the second announcement of the year. There will be no Hell Week."

No Hell Week? I wondered, and many people started whispering to each other the same thing. The First Years were confused, though most looked relieved, and the Second Years were almost weeping in gratitude.

"But there is a reason that there will be no Hell Week," he said bitingly, as if he had seen into all of our lazy minds. "Because there will be an event that will go down in history here at the Academy!"

All was silent as the Headmaster drew out the silence, for a dramatic effect, but Alex next to me was getting twitchy with nerves. I was still on a high from getting Second Lieutenant and hearing that there would be no Hell Week. I'm going to be an Officer for the next four years!

If you can keep it, my brain reminded me.

Next to me, Alex nudged my side. It seemed that I had missed a large speech, for the Headmaster suddenly announced, "For the first time in two-hundred years, there will be a Tournament held. I am talking about the Triwizard Tournament, and we, the Academy, are one of the competing schools!"

Of course, most people didn't understand what the Triwizard Tournament was. But I sure did. I was so surprised and excited that my beret almost fell off. Since when did things like this happen to our school? We may have been one of the largest schools in America, but we weren't well known, nor did we accept just anyone. The mental skills, well, if they weren't hard enough, then there was physical training added in!

If you asked me, I was just glad to be rid of Hell Week.

"There are a few set rules to this competition between the four schools. The others will be Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and Hogwarts. You may say, 'Why, General, that's four schools!' And you'd be absolutely correct. There's no rule stating that no more than three schools are allowed. We haven't visited our brethren in England since the Revolutionary War and we thought to rectify that.

"Only students over seventeen and under twenty are allowed to go. Fifth years and up, seventh years and down, if you so wish." Even though we weren't supposed to say anything, many of the younger students moaned in disbelief; there were angry glints in the eyes of the Eighth and Ninth Years' eyes. They were upset by the fact that none of them would be able to go. "Sign-ups will be in two weeks and we will arrive at Hogwarts on the thirtieth of October. We will have a long way to travel. The Officers from the Eighth and Ninth years will be in charge. And, before I dismiss you to dinner," the old General said, straightening his back, "I will say that no one will disgrace this school. I will not tolerate tardiness or shenanigans, nothing that tarnishes the reputation of this great institution.

"The swamps are off-limits, as every other year, unless it is for the Navy Seals and the Marines' training. The lake is now full of Kelpies, so I would suggest treading cautiously until Professor Willowed takes care of them. Any misuse of wardrobe will be reprimanded." The Headmaster then went and stood behind his seat. "At ease, and enjoy."

Food instantly appeared in front of me and my starving body. I grabbed for the steak as I sat down on the bench. My stomach had been growling so loud during his speech that I'd wondered if anyone had heard it.

"Anna—" Alex said, grasping my arm. She gave me a look that said she was sorry and stern at the same time. "You know you have to watch what you eat. Especially now as an officer."

Especially since there's no Hell Week. I bit my lip and switched direction, reaching for the pasta and fruit. "There's all this food and I can't eat it. I'm in my own personal hell!"

"And there's not even any Hell Week."

"I mean, I work out just as hard, maybe harder than everyone else. You—you can eat whatever you want and get away with it! I don't think you've gained any weight at all since I last saw you." She looked apologetic but I knew that she was on some strict diet from her parents. I'd tried it, obviously, but it hadn't worked.

Not that I thought that I was overweight. No, I liked my body the way it was. To the school, I was fat, plain and simple. But to myself, I was curvy, and I liked that fact.

Alex looked apologetic, then looked guilty as she looked down at the beef on her plate. She quickly put it away and grabbed shrimp.

Daniel, on the other hand, didn't bother with hiding his food from me. He piled the potatoes, pasta, steak, and sweets onto his plate and dug in. "Soh, hat vo bo ink abow tha toondament?" he asked, his mouth completely full.

"The tournament?" Alex asked, always being able to understand him somehow. "I'm excited, though I don't know if I want to go…"

"Don't want to go?" Mary, one of my bunkmates diagonally from me asked. She was one of the people in my study group. "How could you not want to go?"

Alex shrugged. "People die in those tournaments."

"People die in real life, too, Velázquez."

"Well I'm going," I said, poking at my pasta. Nothing could get me off of my high, not even the food. "I'll sign up on Wednesday, first thing." I smiled down at my food. I was hungry, yeah, but so excited that butterflies were riling inside.

This year is mine, and I'm going to grasp the bull by the horns.

I hope I haven't scared you all off yet! Here are some notes to help understand a little bit better.

Note 1: CG, LG, LO, all have specific meanings. It kind of sucked having to type it out each time. Hopefully you weren't confused! CG: Colonel General, LG: Lieutenant General, LO: Leading Officer

Note 2: E1 is an Enlisted man or woman in the military. It is the first level, followed by E2, E3, all the way up to E9. In each branch of the Military, Enlisted Personnell are named differently, hence "Airman Basic" for the Airforce, "Private" for the Army and Marines, and "Seaman Recruit" for the Navy. (All E1 ranks.) Officers are higher rank and pay grade than Enlisted Personnell, and start at O1 and moving up to O10, which is what The General is.

Note 3: You may notice some military terms such as "At ease" and "Attention!" throughout the remainder of this story. I will post their meaning if they are typed in, though. "At ease:" Individuals are permitted light movement given their right foot does not leave the ground; they are not allowed to talk. "Attention" was described in detail.

Note 4: Think of "Physical Training" clothes as gym clothes. More of a description will be given later, by Viktor.